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presented  to  the 
UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SAN  DIEGO 

by 
From  the  Estate  of 
Mrs.    Anna  Tr.   Railharhe 


'^^^^^F^^k^^^^^ 

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K^^^^^p?^i^iyi 

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^^ 


THE   ART   TEACHING 


OF 


JOHN   RUSKIN 


THE   ART   TEACHING 


OF 


JOHN     RUSKIN 


BY 


W.    gAcOLLIJ^.GWOOD,    M.A. 

LATE   SCHOLAR   OF    UNIVERSITY   COLLEGE,    OXFORD 


NEW  YORK:   G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

LONDON:    PERCIVAL  &  CO. 

1891 


Digitized  by  tlie  Internet  Arcliive 

in  2007  witli  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/artteacliingjolinrOOcolliala 


PREFACE 

It  is  perhaps  too  much  to  expect  of  the  "  general 
reader "  that  he  should  defer  criticism  of  Mr. 
Ruskin's  various  utterances  until  he  has  studied 
the  whole  of  Mr.  Ruskin's  writings.  And  yet, 
without  a  firm  grasp  of  the  general  character  and 
tendency  of  this  author's  thought,  there  is  a  great 
risk  either  of  resting  satisfied  with  his  wit  and 
picturesqueness,  or  of  doing  him  the  grave  injustice 
which  is  done  to  any  thinker  when  we  quote  texts 
without  context,  and  use  his  words  without  their 
true  weight  in  them. 

To  all  standard  systems  of  philosophy,  hand- 
books or  summaries  have  been  written,  usually 
by  some  pupil  personally  acquainted  with  the 
master,  and  in  sympathy  with  his  character  and 
tone  of  thought.  Such  summaries,  so  far  from 
superseding  the  original  works,  have  been  found 
most  useful  in  promoting  their  study, — in  clearing 
up  their  difficulties,  and  in  emphasising  those 
leading  thoughts  which  are  often  understood . 
rather  than  expressed  in  the  discursive  eloquence 
of  a  great  writer.      It  may  be  questioned  by  some 


vi  Preface 

whether  Mr.  Ruskin  is  entitled  to  rank  with  the 
standard  philosophers.  We  had  better  leave  that 
question  to  posterity.  It  is  enough  that  half  a 
century  of  criticism,  in  an  age  which  is  nothing 
if  not  critical,  has  only  confirmed  the  position 
which  he  took  as  a  youth  in  the  world  of  art  and 
literature.  An  undoubted  genius,  quite  unique  in 
his  powers  and  in  his  views,  must  command  the 
attention  of  all,  while  he  enlists  the  full  sympathy 
of  comparatively  few.  But  his  name  is  so  iden- 
tified with  art  in  England,  that  no  intelligent 
student  can  afford  to  ignore  him. 

In  the  following  chapters  I  offer  my  contribu- 
tion to  the  better  understanding  of  his  work  by 
doing  for  the  complex  and  multitudinous  writings 
of  Mr.  Ruskin  what  other  disciples  have  done  for 
other  masters  :  systematising  where  he  scorns 
system,  condensing  into  curt  abstract  what  he  has 
detailed  in  charming  redundance  of  diction  ^d 
illustration,  collecting  and  comparing  his  scattered 
utterances  on  the  various  branches  of  his  wide- 
spread subject  ;  in  the  belief,  which  I  trust  the 
reader  will  ratify,  that  Mr.  Ruskin's  writings  on 
art,  though  "  a  mighty  maze,"  are  "  not  without  a 

P^^"-"  W.  G.  C. 

CONISTON,  2-^rd  Sept.  1891. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    I 


BIOGRAPHICAL 

1.  The  Scope  of  his  Teaching 

2.  The  System  of  his  Teaching 

3.  His  Artistic  Education 

4.  His  Independent  Study     . 

5.  His  Relation  to  Academicism 

6.  His  Relation  to  English  Art-Philosophy 

7.  His  Relation  to  German  Art-Philosophy 

8.  His  Relation  to  Modern  Thought 

9.  His  Successive  Periods 
10.  His  Writings  on  Art  :  Modern  Painters  Group 
II..  His  Writings  on  Art  :  Oxford  Lectures  Group 


PAGE 
I 

3 
6 


II 

13 
16 

17 

20 
27 

30 


CHAPTER    II 


THE   NATURE    OF   ART 


12.   Real  and  False  Art 

34 

13.   Aphoristic  Definitions 

36 

14.   Great  Art  and  High  Art  . 

3S 

1 5.   Art  and  Manufacture 

40 

1 6.   Ideas  of  Power 

42 

17.   Machinery  and  Art  . 

45 

18.   Photography  and  Art 

47 

1 9.   Programme  of  the  Subject ' 

49 

vm 


Contents 


CHAPTER   III 


IMITATION 


20.  The  Purpose  of  Art 

21.  Deceptive  Imitation 

22.  The  Mimetic  Instinct 
33.  Representation 

24.  Fact  and  Effect 

25.  The  Most  Important  Truths 

26.  Selection 

27.  Idealism  and  Realism 


CHAPTER    IV 
GENERALISATION 

28.  The  Theory  of  Generalisation    . 

29.  The  Platonic  Archetype    . 

30.  The  Academic  Art- Philosophy  . 

31.  The  Revolt  against  Academicism 

32.  The  War  of  Physics  and  Metaphysics 

33.  Specialisation  ..... 

34.  Character         ..... 


CHAPTER    V 

TRUTH 

35.  The  Three  Stages  of  Knowledge 

36.  Three  Stages  of  Art 

37.  The  Interest  of  Individualisation 

38.  Individualisation  in  Poetry 

39.  Individualisation  in  Painting 

40.  Realistic  Detail 


Contents 


IX 


41.  Idealistic  Detail 

42.  Finish     .... 

43.  Completion,  Right  and  Wrong 


PAGE 
90 

93 


CHAPTER    VI 

SCIENCE    AND    ART 

44.  The  Difference  between  Art  and  Science 

45.  Does  Science  help  Art  ?    . 

46.  The  Use  of  Science  to  Art 

47.  History-painting  and  Archaeology 

48.  Perspective  and  Geometry 

49.  Landscape  and  Natural  Science 

50.  Draughtsmanship  and  Anatomy 

51.  The  Nude        .... 

CHAPTER   Vn 

BEAUTY 

52.  Truth  and  Beauty    . 

53.  Erroneous  Opinions  on  Beauty 

54.  Taste 

55.  Theoria  and  /Esthesis 

56.  Typical  Beauty 

57.  The  Theology  of  Beauty 

58.  Vital  Beauty    . 

59.  Ugliness,  Caricature,  and  the  Picturesque 

60.  Sublimity         ..... 


95 

97 

99 

102 

105 
106 
108 
109 


113 
114 
116 
117 
120 
123 

125 

127 
129 


CHAPTER    VHI 
IMAGINATION 


61.  Ars  est  homo  additus  naturae 

62.  Imagination  and  Truth 


131 
134 


Contents 


63.   Fancy     ...... 

135 

64.   Associative  Imagination 

136 

65.   Penetrative  Imagination    . 

137 

66.   Contemplative  Imagination 

138 

67.   Grotesque 

140 

143 

69.  Inspiration      ..... 

146 

CHAPTER    IX 


ART   AND   RELIGION 


70.  The  Hero  as  Artist  . 

71.  Genius  and  Talent   . 

72.  The  Three  Uses  of  Art     . 

73.  Art  as  viewed  by  Religion 

74.  The  Influence  of  Religion  upon  Art 

75.  Religious  Art  .... 

76.  The  Service  of  Art  to  Religion  . 

77.  Religion  and  Artists 


149 
»5i 
IS3 
>53 
156 

158 
161 

163 


CHAPTER    X 


ART    AND    MORALITY 


78.  Ethical  Laws  and  Practical  Rules 

79.  The  Effect  of  Art  upon  the  Artist 

80.  The  Effect  of  the  Artist's  Morality  on  his  Art 

81.  Art  for  Art's  Sake 

82.  Didactic  Art 

83.  The  Effect  of  Art  on  Public  Morals    . 

84.  The  Effect  of  Public  Morality  on  Art 

85.  Vulgarity 


166 
168 

170 
172 
173 
175 
176 
179 


Contents 


XI 


CHAPTER    XI 


THE   SOCIOLOGY    OF   ART 


86.  Heredity 

87.  Tradition 

88.  The  Evolution  of  Art 

89.  The  Great  Schools 

90.  The  Age  of  the  Masters 

91.  Decadence     . 

92.  Local  Art 

93.  National  Art 


PAGE 

181 

183 
186 
188 
192 

195 
197 
199 


CHAPTER    Xn 


THE   POLITICAL    ECONOMY    OF    ART 


94.  The  Sources  of  Art 

95.  Art-Wealth    . 

96.  Discovery 

97.  Application   . 

98.  Accumulation 

99.  Distribution  . 

100.  The  Wages  of  Art 

1 01.  The  Work  of  Art 


202 
206 
208 
211 
211 
214 
216 
218 


CHAPTER   XHI 

ARCHITECTURE 

102.  The  Genesis  of  Art 

103.  A  priori  Development  of  Architecture 

104.  Architecture  as  a  Fine  Art 

105.  Laws  of  Architecture 

106.  Styles 


222 
224 
226 
227 
230 


Xll 


Contc7its 


107.  Proportion  and  Decoration 

108.  Sculptured  Ornament 

109.  Ornament  and  Structure 

1 10.  Architectural  Colour 


233 
234 
236 

237 


CHAPTER    XIV 


DECORATION 

111.  The  Rank  of  Decorative  Art    . 

112.  Arts  and  Crafts 

113.  Technical  Conditions 

114.  Conventional  Design  :  its  Reasons 

115.  Conventional  Design  :  its  Fallacies 

116.  Naturalism  in  Ornament 

117.  Abstraction   .... 


240 
241 
242 
246 
248 
250 
251 


CHAPTER   XV 


DESIGN 

118. 

The  Necessity  of  Design                            .         .         .253 

119. 

Organised  Form 

254 

120. 

Natural  Grouping  . 

256 

121. 

Imaginative  Grouping     . 

257 

122. 

Invention      .... 

259 

123. 

Three  Stages  of  Design  . 

260 

124. 

Rules  of  Composition 

261 

125. 

Laws  of  Composition 

263 

CHAPTER    XVI 

SCULPTURE 

126. 

Plastic  and  Glyptic 268 

127. 

Incision         .... 

271 

Contents 


Xlll 


1 28.  Surface 

129.  Bas-Relief     . 

1 30.  Undercutting 

131.  Kinds  of  Relief 

132.  Statuary 

133.  The  Vices  of  Sculpture 

1 34.  The  Virtues  of  Sculpture 


PAGE 

272 

273 
274 
276 

277 
279 
281 


CHAPTER    XVII 


ENGRAVING 


135.  The  Definition 

136.  Line     . 

137.  Linear  Texture 

138.  Curvature 

1 39.  Methods  of  Engraving 

140.  Woodcutting 

141.  Etching 

142.  Mezzotint 


284 
287 
289 
290 
292 

295 
297 
300 


CHAPTER    XVIII 


DRAWING 

143- 

Light 303 

144. 

Shade  

304 

145. 

Methods  of  Draughtsmanship  . 

306 

146. 

Transparency  and  Value 

307 

147- 

Pen  and  Wash 

310 

148. 

The  Three  Kinds  of  Chiaroscuro 

312 

149. 

The  Schools  of  Line 

315 

150. 

The  Schools  of  Chiaroscuro     . 

318 

XIV 


Contents 


CHAPTER   XIX 

PAINTING 

PAGB 

151.  The  Schools  of  Colour 322 

152.  The  Mutual  Dependence  of  Drawing  and  Colouring  .  325 

153.  The  Kinds  of  Colour 327 

154.  Laws  of  Colour .  329 

155.  The  Three  Divisions  of  Painting       ....  333 

156.  Execution 335 

157-   Style 337 


CHAPTER    XX 


STUDY   AND  CRITICISM 


158.  Style  and  Teaching 

159.  The  Aim  of  Art-Study    . 

160.  Study  for  Amateurs 

161.  Who  are  "  the  Masters  "  ? 

162.  Standards  of  Art-Study  . 

163.  Study  from  Nature 

164.  Teaching  and  Criticism  . 

165.  The  Function  of  the  Critic 

166.  The  Criteria  of  Art 

167.  The  Future  of  Art 


340 
343 

345 
347 
349 
353 
356 
358 
360 
363 


ABBREVIATED    REFERENCES 


M.  P,  =  Modem  Painters  :  the  edition  used  throughout  has  been 
that  of  1888  ;  and  the  references  are  made  as  briefly  and  clearly 
as  possible  in  each  case  to  direct  the  reader's  attention  to  the  passage 
required,  whatever  edition  he  possesses.  Where  the  page  is 
mentioned,  the  pagination  of  the  "1888"  edition  nearly  corre- 
sponds with  that  of  earlier  complete  editions. 

^.V.=Stoftes  of  Vejtice  :  large  edition  of  1886  used.  To  this 
the  same  remarks  apply  as  to  M.  P.  (the  "  Travellers'  ed."  contains 
only  selections). 

S.  L.  A.  =  Seven  Lamps  of  Architecture  :  large  edition  of  1880. 

E.  D.  =  Elements  of  Drawing  (out  of  print)  :  edition  of  1857, 
referred  to  by  page. 

A.  'E,  =  The  Art  of  England:  edition  of  1887,  referred  to  by 
lecture  and  page. 

L.  F.  =Laws  of  Fesole  :  complete  edition  of  1882,  referred  to  by 
chapter  and  paragraph. 

The  following  are  referred  to  by  numbered  paragraphs,  which  are 
continuous  throughout  each  volume. 

L.  A.  V .  =  Lectrcres  on  Architecture  and  Painting:  edition  of 
1891. 

J.  "E.^A  Joy  for  Ever  (Political  Economy  of  Art) :  small  edition 
of  1887. 

T.  P.  =  The  Two  Paths  :  small  edition  of  1887. 

L.  A.  =  Inaugural  Lectures  on  Art  at  Oxford:  small  edition  of 
1887. 

A.  P.  =Aratra  Pentelici  :  large  edition  of  1879. 


xvi  Abbreviated  References 

A.  F.  =  Ariadne  Florentina  :  large  edition  of  1876. 
V,  d'A.  =  Vol  d^Amo  :  large  edition  of  1882, 
E.  N.  =  Eagle's  Nest :  small  edition  of  1887. 
Of  other  works  the  title  is  given  in  full. 

References  to  passages  in  the  present  work  are  by  chapter  or 
paragraph  (continuously  numbered  throughout)  without  any  title 
prefixed. 


CHAPTER  I 

BIOGRAPHICAL 

I.  The  Scope  of  his  Teaching. — To  put  the  reader 
of  Mr,  Ruskin's  works  at  Mr.  Ruskin's  point  of 
view  ;  to  give  some  distinct  clue  to  the  thread  of 
thought  which  runs  throughout  his  writings  ;  to 
disentangle  it  from  all  the  complicated  embroidery 
of  eloquence,  description,  and  digression  which  at 
the  same  time  ornament  and  obscure  it ;  to  bring 
together  the  statements  of  his  different  periods, 
and  to  compare  the  results  of  his  various  investi- 
gations pursued  along  different  lines  :  in  short,  to 
help  the  student  of  Ruskin,  is  the  purpose  of 
these  chapters.  They  are  designed  as  a  com- 
panion to  the  study  of  Mr.  Ruskin's  teaching ; 
not,  primarily,  as  a  compendium  of  his  doctrines. 

And  yet,  as  they  must  of  necessity  embody  a 
great  part  of  his  thoughts  upon  many  subjects 
connected  with  Art,  they  might  be  taken  by  some 
readers  as  an  attempt  to  condense  and  expound 
the  whole.  To  so  extensive  a  task  I  do  not 
address    myself;    chiefly  because   Mr.    Ruskin   is 

B 


2  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap, 

his  own  best  exponent  on  certain  topics,  and 
nothing  I  could  say  would  explain  or  enforce  his 
own  words  on  such  matters  as  the  relation  of 
Art  to  life  in  practical  things,  the  development  of 
important  schools  and  styles,  and  the  significance 
and  value  of  the  works  of  great  masters.  Con- 
sequently, those  ideas  which  stand  out  in  the 
popular  mind  as  most  prominently  Ruskinian,  are 
only  lightly  to  be  treated  here  ;  while  those  are 
emphasised  which  some  experience  of  study  and 
teaching  has  indicated  to  me  as  likely  to  be 
missed,  or  to  be  misunderstood,  in  dwelling  upon 
isolated  parts  and  periods  of  his  work.  Few 
people  have  the  chance,  and  fewer  the  resolution, 
to  work  out  lines  of  argument  concealed — rather 
than  displayed — in  his  voluminous  treatises  and 
discursive  letters  and  lectures ;  and  while  they 
delight  in  his  style,  in  his  descriptions,  in  his  wit, 
and  in  his  wisdom,  they  are  apt  to  miss  the 
underlying  drift  and  current  of  thought  which 
gives  life  and  unity  to  the  whole. 

And  yet  it  is  impossible  but  that  a  man  who 
has  exercised  so  great  an-  influence  over  his  age 
should  have  had  some  systematic  and  well-con- 
sidered plan  of  thought,  which  suggested  his  utter- 
ances, even  when  they  seemed  paradoxical.  It  is 
impossible  that  mere  literary  style  should  have 
gained  and  held  the  ear  of  the  public  for  the 
casual  remarks  of  an  irresponsible  onlooker.  And 
when  you  come  to  understand  what  that  plan  of 
thought  is,  you  find  that  the  apparent  paradoxes 
resolve  themselves  into  necessary  conclusions : 
you  find  that  Ruskin  may  be  right,  or  he  may  be 


I  Biographical  3 

wrong  ;  but  the  strongest  of  his  sayings  is  of  a 
piece  with  all  his  philosophy. 

For,  by  his  Art-Teaching,  I  understand  some- 
thing much  wider  than  directions  to  pupils  about 
drawing  lines  and  mixing  colours.  In  his  various 
writings  he  has  given — sometimes  in  orderly  ar- 
rangement, sometimes  dispersedly — his  thoughts 
upon  Art  with  regard  to  its  uses,  and  his  observa- 
tions as  to  its  influence  on  the  lives  of  those  who 
produce  it  and  those  who  admire  it ;  in  a  word, 
its  relation  to  Nature  and  its  significance  to  Man. 
The  beginner  may  want  to  know  how  to  paint 
pictures  ;  and  something  of  this  in  due  course  we 
shall  learn  ;  but  first  in  importance  stand  those 
broader  considerations  which  appeal  to  all  think- 
ing minds,  and  involve  all  manner  of  profound 
interests.  When  put  into  shape,  such  thoughts 
make  up  a  more  or  less  complete  Philosophy  of 
Art ;  that  is  to  say,  an  inquiry  into  the  position 
of  Art  with  regard  to  God,  and  the  World,  and  the 
Soul — or  whatever  other  great  names  you  may  be 
pleased  to  substitute  for  these  ancient  terms. 

2.  The  Systetn  of  his  Teaching. — Mr.  Ruskin 
began  with  the  intention  of  treating  Art  in  a 
formal  and  systematic  manner ;  but  after  a  dozen 
years  of  perseverance  in  that  attempt,  the  sheer 
weight  and  mass  of  his  material,  and  the  desire  to 
speak  usefully  to  the  public  rather  than  accept- 
ably to  art -philosophers  (if  there  were  any  in 
this  country) — all  combined  to  break  up  his 
scheme  and  alter  his  tactics.  So  in  January 
1856,  at  the  outset  of  Modern  Painters,  vol.  iii., 
he  announced  his  intention  of  being  thenceforth 


4  Art-Teaching  of  Ruski7i  chap. 

unsystematic,  and  rather  paraded  a  contempt  for 
system,  which  I  suspect  to  have  been  a  reaction 
from  earlier  ambitions.  In  the  Oxford  Lectures  he 
recurs  to  orderly  arrangement,  more  or  less  ;  but 
meantime  his  style  had  been  fixed  ;  and  he  had 
become  an  essayist,  instead  of  a  writer  of  treatises. 

And  he  had  also  become  a  practical  teacher 
instead  of  a  closet  philosopher.  He  had  tried  to 
give  lessons  to  inquiring  artists,  to  intelligent  lads 
of  what  are  called  the  "  working  classes,"  teaching 
for  many  years  at  the  Working  Men's  College  in 
Gt.  Ormond  St.,  Bloomsbury  ;  and  the  formality  of 
youth  had  worn  off — the  stiffness  of  his  graduate's 
gown  had  got  rumpled  out,  and  he  went  to  work 
in  his  shirt-sleeves,  so  to  speak,  as  every  earnest 
man  must,  eventually.  But  when  a  Luther  or  a 
Wiclif  preaches  in  the  vulgar  tongue,  it  is  not  from 
lack  of  Latin  ;  and  when  a  man  like  Ruskin  writes 
Academy  Notes,  and  Elements  of  Draiving,  and 
letters  to  the  newspapers,  and  lectures  at  night- 
schools — full  of  one-sided,  enthusiastic  preaching 
of  the  truth  immediately  necessary — it  is  not  to  be 
supposed  that  he  is  a  fanatic,  and  has  suddenly 
lost  all  his  philosophy.  The  great  teachers  are 
those  who  abdicate  the  chair  for  the  pulpit,  who 
abandon  the  treatise  for  the  pamphlet ;  I  say 
abdicate  and  abandon,  for  there  is  no  virtue  in 
untaught  pulpiteering  and  pamphleteering  ;  it  is 
only  when  these  popular  methods  are  used  by  great 
men  that  they  become  rightly  influential. 

And  in  this  mood  Ruskin  has  often  said 
hard  things  against  professional  philosophers, 
chiefly  because  of  the  "  unsettling  "  tendency  of  the 


I  Biographical  5 

post-Hegelian  age  ;  but  not  without  reason,  in  the 
domain  of  Art-Philosophy  especially,  because  to  a 
serious  student  of  Art  in  all  its  forms  these  framers 
of  a  priori  art-theories  seem  often  to  be  trying  to 
make  bricks — not  without  straw  perhaps — but 
without  clay.  Very  few  of  the  professed  thinkers 
have  had  a  real,  working  acquaintance  with  Art ; 
they  usually  re-echo  the  gossip  of  a  few  studios, 
and  re-assert  the  fallacies  of  the  common  hand- 
books ;  and  the  practised  ear  detects  the  plagiarised 
phrase,  and  resents  the  imposture.  Especially  in  the 
instances  they  give,  in  the  obviously  limited  range 
of  their  illustrations,  in  the  choice  of  commonplace 
or  second-rate  examples,  and  in  their  blindness  to 
unacknowledged  excellence,  one  sees  that  they  are 
not  versed  in  Art ;  and  consequently  the  formulae 
with  which  they  assume  to  have  summed  up  the  com- 
plexities of  the  subject  do  not  always  bear  examina- 
tion in  the  light  of  a  full  and  detailed  acquaintance 
with  the  very  varied  processes  of  mind  and  prac- 
tices of  hand  which  Art  has  actually  employed. 

Therefore,  if  we  are  accustomed  to  look  on  Mr. 
Ruskin  as  anti-philosophical,  it  is  because  he  has 
passed  through  the  phase  of  attempting  systematic 
theory,  and  come  out  into  the  freer  air  of  purified 
common  sense,  with  the  mission  to  teach  and  preach 
one  truth  at  a  time,  as  his  audience  and  occasion 
required.  But  it  is  not  in  maintaining  any  obvi- 
ous system  of  consistent  formulae  that  one  is  a 
philosopher ;  it  is  only  by  having  thought  out 
one's  subject.  And,  taking  Mr.  Ruskin's  writings 
as  a  whole,  allowing  for  the  gradual  development 
of  his  mind,  for  successive  stages  of  study,  and 


6  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

the  continually  changing  circumstances  and  influ- 
ences under  which  he  lived,  we  can  trace  a  distinct 
cohesion  and  continuity  in  his  thought,  all  the 
more  valuable  because  his  interests  were  so  varied 
and  the  appeals  to  his  attention  so  diverse. 

3.  His  Artistic  Education. — Mr.  Ruskin  was 
not  brought  up  as  an  artist ;  he  was  intended  for 
the  Church,  and  expected  to  be  a  poet.  If  he 
had  been  sent  at  sixteen  to  the  Academy  Schools 
we  should  have  had  another  painter  of  some 
originality,  of  great  talent  in  draughtsmanship, 
and  of  extreme  refinement ;  but  we  should  not 
have  had  the  writer  who,  far  beyond  any  other, 
has  directed  the  practice  and  stimulated  the 
patronage  of  Art  in  England.  At  a  very  early 
age  he  began  to  draw  illustrations  to  his  MS. 
books,  at  first  quite  without  a  teacher,  and  then 
in  complete  independence  of  the  teachers  under 
whom  he  was  put.  His  real  masters  were  Turner 
and  Prout  and  Roberts,  whose  engraved  works  he 
copied  with  care  ;  not  Copley  Fielding  and  Hard- 
ing, who  taught  him  something,  no  doubt,  but  not 
what  they  intended  to  teach  him.  In  the  spring 
of  1836,  when  he  was  seventeen  years  old  (born 
on  8th  February  18 19),  he  took  lessons  from 
Fielding,  with  very  little  profit ;  but  he  lov6d 
Fielding's  work  for  the  sake  of  its  subject.  In 
1 84 1,  in  the  autumn,  he  took  lessons  from  J.  D. 
Harding,  and  learnt  from  him,  not  the  "  tree-touch," 
but  the  contempt  which  Harding  shows  in  his 
written  teaching  for  vulgar  Dutch  realism,  and  the 
reason  for  that  attitude,  based  upon  high  ideals  of 
the  mission  of  Art  and  the  responsibilities  of  the 


J  Biographical  7 

missionaries.  Harding  was  a  sincerely  religious 
man,  who  felt  that  landscape  was  a  sort  of  religious 
art,  as  showing  forth  the  praise  of  the  Creator  :  he 
was  not  satisfied  with  teaching  his  pupils  to  draw  ; 
he  tried  to  teach  them  to  think,  and  to  adore  the 
Maker  of  the  beautiful  scenes  whose  memory  they 
were  to  preserve  by  "  the  use  of  the  lead  pencil." 
And  he  certainly  became  such  a  teacher  as  we  had 
not  before  ;  we  owe  a  great  debt  to  him  for  making 
Drawing  acceptable  to  the  temper,  and  instructive 
to  the  mind,  of  religious  England. 

But  it  did  not  need  a  Harding  to  put  this 
before  Ruskin,  who  by  that  time,  already  twenty- 
two  years  of  age,  had  shown  that  he  knew  and 
felt  as  much, — in  his  early  Poems,  in  his  early 
Essays,  in  his  early  attempts  at  drawing,  both 
published  and  unpublished.  The  very  next  year 
he  was  writing  Modern  Painters,  and  discussing 
Art  from  a  much  higher  standpoint  than  any  that 
Harding  reached.  The  claim  of  Harding's  friends 
that  Ruskin  did  not  sufficiently  acknowledge  his 
obligations  to  the  pioneer  of  his  advance,  is  founded 
on  a  want  of  appreciation  of  the  real  and  funda- 
mental distinction  between  the  two  men.  Ruskin 
says  things  that  Harding  says,  but  he  would  have 
said  them  in  any  case ;  and  he  goes  beyond 
Harding  at  every  turn — he  investigates  regions 
which  Harding  never  entered.  In  Modern  Painters 
Harding  is  treated  with  respect ;  in  the  1883  Epi- 
logue to  vol.  ii.  with  eulogy  ;  and  the  engraver's 
error  in  plate  27  (vol.  iv.) — by  which,  in  early 
editions,  the  Hardingesque  tree  seems,  on  compar- 
ing the  text,  to  be  meant  for  the  worst  type  of  all 


8  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

— is  so  obviously  an  error  that  it  need  never  have 
been  taken  for  an  insult. 

4.  His  Independent  Study. — But  though  he  was 
not  the  pupil  of  drawing- masters,  he  was  the 
energetic  student  of  Art,  from  those  early  days 
when,  aged  eleven,  he  facsimiled  Cruikshank,  and 
when,  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  he  imitated  Turner's 
vignettes,  and  copied  Rembrandt  at  the  Louvre. 
Throughout  his  life  he  studied  masterpieces  of 
ancient  Art  in  the  only  way  in  which  they  can 
be  thoroughly  studied — by  facsimile  copying  ;  and 
as  specimens  of  his  work  in  this  kind  may  be  seen 
in  his  Oxford  School,  the  St.  Catherine  of  Luini, 
and  in  his  own  house,  the  Zipporah  of  Botticelli 
and  the  St.  Ursula  of  Carpaccio. 

Besides  copying  the  masters  he  made  analytical 
notes  in  galleries.  These  are  generally  found  in 
his  journal,  which  he  has  always  kept  with  assi- 
duity ;  a  specimen  of  his  unpublished  remarks  on 
treatment,  colour,  and  composition  in  some  of  the 
pictures  at  Genoa  is  given  in  Stones  of  Venice,  in 
the  supplementary  chapter  entitled  "Castel  Franco" 
(vol.  iii.  of  new  edition).  This  fact  is  worth  noting, 
because  it  is  sometimes  supposed  that  Mr.  Ruskin 
is  one  of  those  writers  who  are  discursive  from 
lack  of  matter,  and  that  his  examination  of  his 
subject  has  always  been  superficial.  On  the  con- 
trary, those  who  have  been  able  to  look  over  his 
note-books  can  testify  to  his  diligence  in  collecting 
all  manner  of  material  bearing  on  his  subject ;  and 
thos6  who  have  been  with  him  during  the  progress 
of  any  important  work  know  with  what  elaborate 
care  he  has  built  up  his  argument ;  though  when 


I  Biographical  9 

all  is  done,  he  knocks  away  the  scaffolding,  so  to 
speak,  and  leaves  his  fabric  unsupported  by  the 
props  and  ties  and  debris  of  "  authorities,"  which 
many  writers  accumulate  around  their  work  in  the 
shape  of  notes  and  references. 

But  together  with  his  studies  of  Art  he  studied 
Nature  from  the  beginning  ;  sketched  unweariedly, 
in  season  and  out  of  season  ;  noted  phenomena ; 
elaborated  detail  ;  caught  effects  ;  measured  pro- 
portions and  angles  ;  in  short,  he  has  worked  at 
the  craft  of  the  landscape  painter  in  all  except 
painting  pictures  ;  and  the  more  thoroughly,  be- 
cause his  memoranda  were  not  merely  meant  to 
serve  for  painting  pictures,  but  for  study  of  the 
subject.  Every  landscape  artist  of  serious  aim 
knows  how  much  of  this  sort  of  labour  is  necessary, 
though  it  never  meet  the  eye  of  the  public  ;  and 
that  in  doing  it  lies  the  difference  between  the 
professionally  educated  landscapist  and  the  mere 
amateur.  Mr.  Ruskin  has  practically  had  the 
education  of  a  professional  painter — and  a  good 
deal  more  than  most  of  them — by- unremitting 
application  to  study. 

In  this  way  he  created  a  style  of  his  own — a 
style  which  is  so  characteristic  of  the  man  that  it 
is  hardly  adaptable  to  the  aims  of  ordinary  artists  ; 
and  yet  it  contains  the  elements  for  which  we 
should  look  in  a  student  of  Nature,  whose  desire 
is  not  to  produce  pretty  pictures  or  striking  com- 
positions, but  to  record  phenomena  with  delicacy 
and  accurate  completeness.  A  drawing  by  him 
is  not  a  remarkable  object  in  an  exhibition  ;  but 
it  is  good  to  live  with,  because  it  does  not  depend 


I o  Art-  Teach ing  of  Ruskin  chap. 

on  the  artifices  of  contrasted  arrangement,  the 
dexterity  of  bold  execution,  and  all  the  other 
qualities  which  ensure  immediate  popularity  at 
some  expense  of  intimate  and  lasting  appeal.  It 
is  not  a  "  picture  "  but  a  "  study." 

Most  of  his  work  was  done,  from  the  com- 
mencement, with  the  intention  of  illustrating  his 
books ;  and  consequently  is  on  a  small  scale, 
refusing  colour,  and  emphasising  the  characteristics 
to  which  he  meant  to  call  attention.  He  never 
mastered  oil-painting  ;  partly  because  the  facts  he 
wanted  to  record  could  be  much  more  easily  got 
in  line  and  water-colour  wash,  partly  because  he 
never  meant  to  paint  pictures,  and  oil-colour  is 
especially  the  material  for  picture  painting.  But 
etching  in  its  various  methods  was  practised  by 
him  with  skill  and  success,  of  which  examples 
are  among  the  illustrations  to  Modern  Painters 
and  the  soft-ground  plates  to  the  early  editions  of 
The  Seven  Lamps  of  Architecture — one  of  which 
was  "  savagely "  bitten  in  his  wash-hand  basin  at 
La  Cloche  in  Dijon,  and  is  none  the  worse  for  its 
summary  treatment. 

For  sensitive  delineation,  pure  draughtsmanship 
of  natural  detail  and  architectural  ornament,  in- 
volving subtlety  of  refined  curvature  and  delicate 
adjustment  of  lines,  I  do  not  think  his  work  can 
be  beaten.  It  is  idle  to  suppose  that  his  published 
plates  owe  their  qualities  to  the  engravers  ;  the 
qualities  are  equally  present  in  work  engraved  by 
his  own  hand  ;  and  the  original  drawings  are  finer 
than  the  reproductions — without  prejudice  to  the 
reputation  of  the  famous  men  who  worked  for  him, 


I  Biographical  1 1 

and  in  so  doing  touched  perhaps  the  highest  level 
that  their  Art  has  reached. 

Teaching,  studying,  drawing,  engraving,  sketch- 
ing,— it  might  well  seem  that  life  was  not  long 
enough  for  all  this,  together  with  literary  labours 
and  social  reform  ;  were  it  not  that  Mr.  Ruskin 
is  the  most  energetic  of  men,  inheriting  an  un- 
wearied activity  from  his  parents,  and  brought  up 
by  them  to  be  never  idle,  but  always  obviously 
occupied.  His  objection  to  smoking,  for  instance, 
is  grounded  on  the  idea  that  it  tends  to  make  time 
pass  pleasantly  without  active  employment :  his 
objection  to  athletics  and  games  is  that  they  divert 
energy  from  useful  purpose.  In  his  own  case — 
however  one  may  estimate  the  result — we  have  a 
man  who  has  never  idled,  never  spent  his  time  in 
society,  never  wasted  his  energies  in  anything  but 
his  work.  "If  you  want  to  get  on  better  than 
other  people,"  one  of  our  gnomic  writers  has  said, 
"you  must  do  more  work  than  they."  And  if 
you  want  to  teach  Art,  you  must  practise  it,  and 
study  it,  and  everything  appertaining  to  it,  far 
more  conscientiously  than  the  average  artist  or 
critic.  The  conception  of  Ruskin  as  a  mere 
literary  stylist  and  dilettante  in  Art  is  an  error  ; 
there  are  few  writers  whose  opinions  are  founded 
on  so  thorough  an  examination  of  the  subject. 

5.  His  Relation  to  Academicism. — Beside  the 
practice  of  Art,  which  does  not  in  itself  justify 
philosophic  criticism  and  generalisations  of  theory, 
Ruskin  began  at  an  early  age  to  study  such 
writers  as  were  then  accessible ;  of  which  there 
were  two  kinds, — those  who,  being  artists,  wrote 


12  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

about  Art  from  the  point  of  view  mainly  of 
practice  ;  and  those  who,  being  critics,  wrote  their 
notions  of  the  theory.  In  the  first  class,  besides 
current  literature  such  as  that  contained  in  E. 
V.  Rippingille's  Artists'  arid  Amateurs'  Magazine^ 
there  were  the  lecturers  at  the  Royal  Academy — 
Reynolds,  Barry,  Fuseli.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 
was  much  the  most  important,  both  as  a  great 
artist  and  as  a  fine  writer.  Ruskin  was  brought 
up  in  an  atmosphere  of  tradition  of  the  Johnsonian 
School ;  the  Rambler  and  the  Idler^  to  which 
Reynolds  contributed,  were  his  father's  favourite 
reading  among  those  scenes  of  travel  which  gave 
the  son  his  opportunities  and  inspirations  for  the 
study  of  Art  and  Nature.  James  Northcote,  the 
favourite  pupil  and  biographer  of  Reynolds,  was 
a  friend  of  the  family  ;  and  it  was  natural  that 
the  great  Sir  Joshua  should  be  respected  with 
youthful  hero-worship  by  a  boy  who  found  noble 
qualities  in  his  work  and  sound  sense  in  his 
"  Discourses." 

Accordingly,  the  first  two  volumes  of  Modern 
Painters  start  from  Reynolds  as  from  an  authority 
in  whom  there  may  be  blemishes,  but  no  serious 
flaw.  And  when,  in  1855,  it  was  necessary  to 
controvert  the  peculiar  doctrines  of  Academicism 
of  which  Reynolds  was  the  exponent,  Ruskin's 
tone  towards  his  old  master  is  that  of  courteous 
antagonism.  The  lesser  critics  among  his  foes 
he  hunted  like  rats  and  crushed  without  remorse, 
which  makes  his  treatment  of  the  nobler  opponent 
all  the  more  distinguished.  And  as  time  went 
on,  and  the  ghost  of  the  Grand  Style  was  laid, 


I  Biographical  1 3 

together  with  many  other  potent  wraiths  and 
tyrannic  giants  of  the  bygone  age,  to  trouble  the 
world  no  more  (for  a  season) — his  old  comradeship 
with  his  predecessor  in  Art-Teaching  was  revived. 
He  praised  his  work  and  his  doctrines  in  a  course 
of  Oxford  Lectures  ;  and  very  many  of  the  points 
upon  which  his  latest  teaching  insists  are  the 
points  upon  which  Sir  Joshua  insisted. 

As  I  have  studied  the  influence  of  Reynolds 
on  Ruskin,  their  points  of  contact  and  coincidence, 
elsewhere  (in  the  magazine  Igdrasil,  vol.  i.  No.  4, 
published  by  George  Allen),  it  is  unnecessary  here 
to  repeat  the  full  detail,  especially  as  it  would 
lead  ug  farther  than  we  can  afford  to  go.  But  in 
a  word  it  may  be  said  that  of  all  previous  writers 
on  Art,  Reynolds  has  influenced  Mr.  Ruskin  more 
than  any  other,  in  spite  of  grave  diversities  of 
temper  and  wide  differences  of  conclusion.  For 
Academicism  as  such,  apart  from  the  personality 
of  a  genius  like  Sir  Joshua,  Ruskin  has  never  had 
much  respect.  For  the  Royal  Academy  as  an 
institution  he  has  had  his  hopes  and  indicate(i 
his  ideals.  With  many  of  its  members  he  haa 
had  friendly  relations;  he  has  done  justice  to  their 
talents  ;  and  though  he  has  not  spared  criticism 
he  never  joined  in  the  indiscriminating  detraction 
of  jealous  outsiders. 

6.  His  Relation  to  English  Art-Philosophy. — = 
Besides  these  artists  who  wrote  upon  Art,  there 
were  several  professed  philosophers  whom  Rus- 
kin studied  with  a  view  to  the  bearing  of 
their  doctrines  upon  his  special  subject.  He 
left    Oxford,  as   many  reading    men  do,  with    a 


14  Art-Teaching  of  Rtiskin  chap. 

somewhat  high  estimate  of  the  advantage  of  a  couple 
of  years'  study  of  Logic  and  Ethics.     Without  that 
study  and  the  training  it  implies,  serious  investi- 
gation of  a  general  subject  is  almost  impossible  ; 
but  the  undergraduates'  curriculum  does  not  carry 
one  very  far.      Ruskin's   philosophical  work  was 
complimented   by  the   examiners  who   gave  him 
his   degree ;    but    that    did    not    approve   him    a 
philosopher,  any  more  than  his  winning  the  New- 
digate  prize  proved  him  a  poet.     It  shows,  how- 
ever,  that    he    could,    and    did,   assimilate    what 
Oxford,  in    the   days  when   she    produced    some 
of  our  leading  thinkers,  had  to  teach  ;   and  that 
there  was  some  justification  in  the  doctrinaire  tone 
of  his  earliest   books.      In    1843,  when   Modern 
Painters  was  published,  he  was  only  twenty-four ; 
but  he  had  been  before  the  public  as  a  writer  of 
prose  and  verse  for  nearly  ten  years,  not  without 
distinct  applause  and  the  well-understood  antici- 
pation of  success.      He   had  read  his  Plato   and 
Aristotle,   and   received   a   grounding   in    general 
philosophy  such  as  serves   many  writers  for  the 
stock-in-trade  of  their  whole  lives.      His  first  work 
was    not    either    an    inspiration    or    an    imperti- 
nence ;  judged  by  his  subsequent  standards  it  is 
immature  ;  but  it  went  a  long  way  beyond  any- 
thing that  had  been  done  in  our  language,  up  to 
that  time. 

He  had  before  him  Burke's  essay  on  The 
Sublime  and  Beautiful^  criticised  at  the  time 
and  more  highly  appraised  later  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.,^ 

^  The  reader  will  find  the  equivalent  of  abbreviated  references 
by  looking  back  to  the  page  following  the  ' '  Contents. " 


I         .  Biographical  15 

additional    note    59).      He   had    studied    Alison, 
who  was  a   mere   devotee   of  the   Eclair cissement, 
referring  everything  to  that  fetish  of  his  period 
and  school,  the  association  of  ideas  ;  but   Ruskin, 
from   his    earliest  time,  was  an  opponent  of  the 
sceptical  school,  in  whatever  form  ;  he  did  not  at 
first  accept  Carlyle,  but  he  was  on  Carlyle's  side  ; 
and   though   he   did   not   like  what  he  learnt  of 
German     philosophy,   since    it    came    to    him,    I 
believe,  through  channels  in  which  he  suspected 
the  taint  of  scepticism,  he  has  been  really  on  the 
side  of  those  who  have  popularised  the  German 
philosophy  of   Kant,  Fichte,  and  Hegel,  in   this 
country.      The  first  of  these  acclimatisers  of  Tran- 
scendentalism was  S.  T.  Coleridge,  whose  essays 
"  on  the  Fine  Arts,"  "  on  Taste,"  and  "  on  Poetry 
or   Art,"    attempted    to   render   into    English  the 
teaching  of  Kant  (the  student  may  compare  them 
in    Bohn's    edition     of    Coleridge's    Miscellanies^ 
Esthetic    a7id    Literary,    with,    say,    Schwegler's 
account  of  Kant's  Art-philosophy  in  the  History  of 
Philosophy,  translated  by  Dr.  Hutchison  Stirling). 
Ruskin    quotes    Coleridge    in   vol.    i.    of  Modern 
Painters  (p.  1 6)  with  no  great  respect ;  but  it  is 
evident  that  he  had  studied  him  ;    and  he  goes 
with  him  as  far  as    Coleridge  goes  ;  but  that  is  a 
very  little  way.      Ruskin  could  not  have  a  very 
great  reverence  for  a  thinker  who  drew  his  illus- 
trations  of   artistic   standards   from    Washington 
Allston   and    Bird,   and  "  the   print  of  Raphael's 
Galatea  ; "  although  Coleridge  as  a  poet  comes  in 
for   frequent   encomium,  and,  in  early  days,  the 
sincerest  flattery, — imitation. 


1 6  Art- Teaching  of  Rtisktn  chap. 

7.  His  Relation  to  Gervian  Art- Philosophy. — 
Of  Kant  at  first  hand,  Ruskin  could  have  known 
very  little  ;  he  was  unable  to  read  German,  and  the 
translations  and  analyses  which  are  now  familiar 
to  every  student  did  not  then  exist.  Otherwise  it 
might  be  supposed  that  much  of  Modern  Paittters 
had  been  suggested  by  Kant  ;  and  that  much  of 
Ruskin's  subsequent  thinking  had  been  based  upon 
Hegel.  Some  little  information  he  undoubtedly  did 
acquire — as  one  sees  from  his  parade  of  the  word 
"  Anschauung  "  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.),  and  perhaps  the  use 
of  "  Theoria  "  (on  which  the  student  should  compare 
Mr.  Bernard  Bosanquet's  translation  of  Hegel's 
Introduction  to  the  Philosophy  of  Fine  Arty  pp. 
73,  94),  with  many  coincidences  in  point  of  view 
both  in  his  early  and  in  his  later  period.  Take, 
for  his  early  period,  his  statement  of  the  use  of 
science  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  p.  8),  and  compare  it  with 
Hegel's  remarks  (Introduction,  as  above,  p.  12); 
for  his  later  period  the  definition  of  Art  in  the 
Eagle's  Nesty  "  The  modification  of  substantial 
things  by  our  substantial  power,"  along  with  Hegel's 
"  modification  of  external  things  upon  which  [man] 
impresses  the  seal  of  his  inner  being,  and  then  finds 
repeated  in  them  his  own  characteristics ; "  or 
again,  the  doctrine  of  inspiration,  in  the  "  Inaugural 
Lectures  at  Oxford  "  {L.  A.y  §  44),  "  the  common 
and  vital,  but  not  therefore  less  Divine,  spirit,  of 
which  some  portion  is  given  to  all  living  creatures," 
which  is  so  very  Hegelian  in  ring.  These,  with 
many  other  coincidences,  and  still  more  conclus- 
ively his  attacks  on  the  obscurity  of  German  phrase- 
ology, make  it  seem  impossible  but  that  he  should 


I  Biographical  1 7 

have  attempted  an  acquaintance  with  Hegel  ;  but 
when,  and  how,  I  cannot  trace.  His  extraordinary 
aptitude  for  picking  up  a  hint,  and  making  the  most 
of  it,  inclines  me  to  believe  that  all  he  knew  of  Hegel 
was  gathered  orally  from  some  enthusiastic  friend, 
who  tried  to  expound  the  doctrines  of  the  great 
German,  and  thought  he  had  failed  ;  not  knowing, 
perhaps,  the  virtue  of  a  seed  sown  in  a  fertile  soil. 

But  whatever  Mr.  Ruskin  may  have  learnt  from 
the  Germans,  it  was  in  such  a  fragmentary  form 
that  he  was  under  no  obligation  to  consider  them 
in  any  sense  his  masters  ;  and  his  ignorance  of 
their  language  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  refer 
to  their  works  in  support  of  his  statements.  And 
when,  later,  he  came  across  that  development  of 
Hegelianism  which  tended  to  destructive  criticism 
of  religion,  he  lost  no  opportunity  of  denouncing 
it,  and  with  it,  all  from  which  it  sprang.  That 
was  just  because  he  was  so  much  at  one  with  the 
great  masters  of  thought,  and  so  heartily  against 
scepticism  in  every  form,  whether  it  were  the 
French  School  of  the  eighteenth  century,  or  the 
German  and  English  critical  thinkers  and  material- 
ists of  the  nineteenth. 

8.  His  Relation  to  Modern  Thought. — This  state- 
ment may  seem  strange  to  the  reader  who  remem- 
bers that,  in  his  early  days,  at  Oxford,  Ruskin  was 
the  friend  of  men  who  have  become  famous  in  the 
lead  of  modern  scientific  research  ;  and  that  he  him- 
self was  as  deeply  interested  in  natural  science  as  in 
art  or  literature.  But  it  must  not  be  forgotten 
that  science,  though  it  has  now  passed  almost 
completely    into    the    hands    of    the     Materialist 

C 


1 8  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

School,  was  not  at  first  identified  with  that  atti- 
tude of  mind  which  denied  spirit ;  nor  need  it 
always  be  so  identified.  At  present,  physical 
science  eliminates  God  out  of  the  universe,  and 
the  soul  out  of  man  ;  it  was  not  so  in  Ruskin's 
young  days  ;  and  it  may  not  be  so  in  time  to 
come.  It  is  probably  a  passing  phase  of  thought, 
like  that  which  for  a  long  time  associated  ethics 
exclusively  with  the  doctrines  of  the  enlightened 
selfishness  school,  and  political  economy  with  the 
Utilitarians  ;  in  either  case  the  science  has  broken 
away  from  those  who  seemed  to  have  a  monopoly 
of  it,  and  nowadays  is  approachable  from  the  point 
of  view  of  Spiritualism — I  do  not  mean  table-turn- 
ing and  psychical  research,  but  that  philosophy 
which  believes  in  God  and  the  human  soul.  And 
so  Ruskin  was  not,  in  his  early  time,  brought  under 
the  yoke  of  materialism,  any  more  than  Faraday 
or  Dr.  Buckland  and  the  other  scientists  of  half  a 
century  ago,  before  evolution  seemed  inevitable, 
before  geology  and  Genesis  had  come  into  open 
collision.  With  all  his  interest  in  physics  Ruskin 
in  Modern  Painters  remained  a  theistic  philosopher 
— not  from  want  of  appreciation  of  the  subject, 
but  because  at  that  time  theistic  philosophy  was 
possible  ;  as  it  is  not  now,  until  a  new  great  man 
arises  to  reconcile  the  contradictions  of  science  and 
belief  Ruskin  is  on  the  side  of  Carlyle  and 
Emerson,  that  is,  on  the  side  of  Hegel ;  against  the 
French  klaircissemetit  and  English  imitation  of  it 
— scepticism,  materialism,  utilitarianism,  and  the 
attitude  of  thought — no  new  thing — which  pro- 
fesses to  "explain"  everything  on  the  cheapest  terms. 


I  Biographical  1 9 

That  should  give  the  student  a  clue  to  the  real 
value  of  the  theory  of  beauty  and  imagination 
(il/.  /*.,  vol.  ii.)  which,  though  expressed  in  religious 
phraseology,  is  really  a  piece  of  strictly  philo- 
sophical analysis.  It  is  not  a  mere  sermon,  any 
more  than  a  chapter  of  Hegel  is  a  mere  sermon, 
in  spite  of  the  recurrence  of  the  Name  of  God,  and 
obvious  applicability  to  didactic  use.  And  it  is 
found,  on  examination,  to  satisfy  the  requirements 
of  no  one  sect  of  religionists,  although  its  language 
invites  their  sympathy  ;  it  is  not  an  attempt  to 
suit  Art  to  religion  ;  but  to  express  both  in  terms 
of  all-embracing  thought.  We  of  the  present  day, 
who  are  accustomed  to  have  our  thought  admin- 
istered in  a  decoction  of  empiricism,  flavoured  with 
a  little  cynic  astringency  or  syrup  of  sentiment, 
are  apt  to  confound  theistic  philosophy  with  pulpit 
oratory  ;  very  good  critics  and  friends  of  Mr. 
Ruskin  talk  of  his  early  writing  as  merely  declama- 
tory— because  they  hardly  grasp  his  place  in  the 
development  of  English  thought ;  in  which  he 
stands,  like  Carlyle,  midway  between  the  inter- 
necine strife  of  theology  and  "  science,"  crying  out, 
not  wholly  in  vain,  for  a  reconciliation. 

Without  this  view  of  his  general  attitude  it  is 
no  wonder  if  he  seem  paradoxical  and  contra- 
dictory. The  apparent  simplicity  of  his  address, 
his  use  of  familiar  terms,  and  Socratically  common- 
place metaphors,  all  tend  to  entangle  the  unwary 
reader  in  difficulties  for  which  he  was  not  prepared. 
But  the  widespreading  subject  of  Art  cannot  be 
treated  properly  without  such  considerations  ;  and 
Ruskin's  Art-Teaching  in  particular  is  based  upon 


2 o  Art-  Teach ing  of  Ruskm  chap. 

a  securely-held  system  of  general  philosophy,  and 
cannot  be  understood  without  some  knowledge 
and  recognition  of  its  main  tendency. 

In  method,  however,  he  is  distinctly  modern. 
In  his  early  days  a  great  reaction  was  taking  place 
against  the  generalising  philosophy  of  the  previous 
age.  Science  was  teaching  the  necessity  of  true 
classification  and  analysis  ;  of  thorough  dealing 
with  particular  facts,  and  the  futility  of  mere  a 
priori  generalities.  Of  this  movement.  Mill's 
induction  was  the  outward  and  visible  sign  ;  and 
Ruskin's  method  of  criticism  marks  the  parallel 
stage  of  advance  in  Art.  Before  his  time,  Art 
was  a  game,  to  be  played  according  to  rules,  and 
to  be  judged  as  lost  or  won  in  strict  compliance 
with  prearranged  principles.  His  contribution 
was  the  sympathetic  analysis  of  the  work  of  Art 
in  its  environment,  which  was  practically  a  new 
departure  ;  and  in  virtue  of  this  he  stands  as  one 
of  the  leaders  of  modern  thought — "  the  most 
analytic  mind  in  Europe,"  as  Mazzini  said — for 
better  or  worse,  changing  the  current  of  events. 
He  effected  in  Art  the  union  of  practical  and 
theoretic  work,  which  it  is  the  pride  of  the  century 
to  have  effected  in  science  ;  he  inaugurated  the  era 
of  scientific  criticism. 

9.  His  Successive  Periods. — We  have  been  re- 
viewing the  influences  which  helped  to  develop 
Ruskin's  powers,  and  form  his  beliefs  at  the  time 
when  he  appeared  before  the  public  with  his  first 
great  attempt — vol.  i.  of  Modern  Painters.  That 
book  originated,  as  every  one  knows,  in  the  desire 
to  vindicate  Turner's  later  work  from  the  charge 


I  Biographical  2 1 

of  untruthfulness,  and  to  show  that,  with  all  draw- 
backs, he  was  the  greatest  landscapist  the  world 
had  seen.  Even  before  the  author  had  matricu- 
lated at  Oxford  (October  1836)  he  had  written 
an  essay  in  defence  of  Turner's  Juliet  and  Mercury 
and  Argus,  against  the  criticism  of  Blackwood's 
Magazine.  This  essay,  long  supposed  to  be  lost, 
I  have  had  the  good  fortune  -to  find  among  the 
author's  early  papers  ;  it  is,  of  course,  a  juvenile 
production,  but  there  have  not  been  many  boys  of 
seventeen  who  could  have  composed  it ;  and  it 
contains  the  germ  in  thought  and  style  of  the 
book  written  after  seven  years'  further  study  and 
deliberation. 

The  defence  of  Turner  was  the  chief  subject  of 
his  first  appearance  as  Art-critic,  but  it  soon  led  to 
a  wider  scope  ;  for  it  became  necessary  to  investi- 
gate the  general  theory  of  Art  in  order  to  show 
that  Turner  really  complied  with  its  fundamental 
principles,  though  breaking  all  the  rules  of  ordi- 
nary aesthetics.  The  author's  standards  in  1842, 
when  he  wrote  the  first  volume,  were,  in  Art, 
English  landscape  and  Academic  orthodoxy  ;  in 
religion,  a  strict  Evangelicalism  ;  and  in  style,  Dr. 
Johnson. 

To  follow  up  his  first  volume,  which  had  won 
a  distinct  success,  his  plan  was  to  investigate  the 
nature  of  beauty  and  imagination  ;  and,  as  there 
was  then  beginning  to  be  some  talk  about  the 
early  Christian  painters  of  Italy,  he  felt  that  he 
could  not  go  forward  without  study  of  mediaeval 
styles.  Accordingly  he  travelled  by  himself  to 
Italy  in  1845,  and  began  with  Lucca;  where  his 


2  2  Art-Teaching  of  Rti skin  chap. 

eyes  were  opened  to  a  new  manner  of  Art,  unmen- 
tioned  by  Sir  Joshua,  and  unknown  to  the  English 
newspaper  critics.  In  the  place  of  the  Northern 
Gothic,  with  which  he  was  well  acquainted,  he 
found  the  Romanesque  architecture  of  the  twelfth 
century  grandly  exemplified  in  S.  Frediano.  He 
found  Quercia's  Ilaria  di  Caretto,  which  fixed  his 
attention  at  once  and  for  ever  on  the  possibilities 
of  Gothic  sculpture  in  its  highest  development,  as 
distinct  from  everything  that  was  modelled  upon 
classical  traditions,  pure  and  simple.  And  in 
painting  he  was  gently  initiated  into  the  peculiar 
manner  of  fourteenth-century  Art  by  the  works  of 
Fra  Bartolommeo — especially  by  the  "  Madonna 
with  the  Magdalen,"  now  occupying  the  most  im- 
portant place  in  the  Pinacoteca.  From  thence  he 
went  on  to  Pisa  and  Florence,  and  ultimately  to 
Venice,  gaining  an  insight  by  severe  study — that 
is,  copying — of  the  methods  of  work  and  attitude 
of  mind  of  the  primitive  masters  and  the  Venetians. 
On  his  return  he  wrote  his  second  volume,  and 
became  the  recognised  champion,  not  only  of 
Turner  and  English  landscape,  but  also  of 
Angelico  and  Tintoret.  And  he  found  that  there 
were  certain  qualities  which  all  his  heroes  had  in 
common — they  were  all  sincere,  not  only  with 
their  painting  but  with  their  religion  ;  they  all 
"  painted  their  impressions,"  and  did  not  manufac- 
ture pretty  pictures  by  rules-of-thumb  ;  and  this 
is  his  first  point  of  contact  with  Carlyle. 

In  that  temper,  retaining  his  old  beliefs  about 
religion,  but  sympathising  with  pre  -  Reformation 
Catholicism,  and    feeling   strongly  the   futility  of 


I  Biographical  23 

modern  derivative  Art  and  dwindling  piety,  he 
wrote  The  Seveji  Lamps  of  Architecture  (1849)  as 
an  episode  to  Modern  Painters,  to  insist  upon 
the  necessity  of  the  ancient  spirit,  if  we  would 
revive  the  Art  of  the  ancients ;  and,  as  a  still 
more  elaborate  exposition  of  his  theorem,  the 
Stones  of  Venice  (1851-52). 

Meanwhile  a  new  movement  had  been  taking 
place  near  at  hand — the  Pre-Raphaelite  reform. 
It  was,  whether  intentionally  or  not,  the  carrying 
out  of  advice  given  by  Ruskin  in  his  first  volume  ; 
its  chief  characteristic  was  faithful  study  of  natural 
phenomena  and  natural  expression,  as  opposed  to 
artificial  ideals.  It  was  only  accidentally  con- 
nected with  the  Gothic  revival,  and  some  of  its 
early  successes  were  made  with  subjects  that  had 
no  special  mediaevalism  of  manner.  It  revealed  a 
quite  unexpected  possibility  of  naturalistic  Art,  till 
then  hardly  known  ;  although  something  of  the 
sort  had  been  attempted  by  Ruskin  in  his  own 
drawings  of  natural  detail,  naturally  grouped. 
Realism  there  had  been  in  plenty,  high  finish, 
romantic  subject ;  but  never  before  the  same 
sympathetic  draughtsmanship  and  frank  colour 
followed  out  into  the  intricacies  of  detail.  These 
were  the  qualities  of  the  Pre-Raphaelites  that  won 
Ruskin's  regard,  and  made  him  their  literary 
champion  in  his  letters  to  various  newspapers,  in 
the  pamphlet  on  "  Pre-Raphaelitism  "  (185  i),  in 
the  Lectures  on  Architecture  and  Painting,  and  in 
the  third  and  fourth  volumes  of  Modern  Painters 
(published  1856).  In  these  he  showed  that  the 
new    school,    apparently    so     unlike    his     former 


24  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

standards,  Turner  and  Tintoret,  was  to  be  regarded 
as  the  beginning  of  a  new  development,  which,  if 
faithfully  carried  forward,  might  end  in  a  modern 
epoch  of  Art,  ranking  with  the  great  eras  of  the 
past.  And  full  of  happy  auguries  he  wrote  his 
lectures  on  The  Political  Economy  of  Art  (1857), 
expecting  "a  good  time  coming,"  as  many  did  in 
those  years. 

One  reason  for  this  hopeful  attitude  was  the 
establishment  of  the  Working  Men's  College,  and 
Rossetti's  Art  Class  there.  It  seemed  as  if  great 
things  were  to  be  done,  when  one  of  the  leaders 
of  progress  gave  his  strength,  unasked  and  unpaid, 
to  popularise  his  art,  and  met  with  some  response. 
It  seemed  as  though  Art  were  again  to  live  among 
the  people.  Ruskin  threw  himself  into  the  work  ; 
and  as  text-books  of  the  methods  they  pursued  he 
wrote  his  Elements  of  Drawing  (1855)  and  of 
Perspective  (1859).  Moderti  Painters,  also,  was 
completed  by  1 860,  and  his  debt  to  the  memory 
of  Turner,  as  far  as  lay  in  him,  was  paid. 

But  the  Working  Men's  College  was  a  mere 
"  drop  in  the  bucket "  ;  and  it  went  a  very  little 
way  toward  quenching  the  world's  thirst  for  better 
things.  The  good  time  tarried ;  and  Ruskin 
could  not  but  ask  himself,  "  Why  ?"  The  problem 
was,  not  to  bring  down  Art  to  the  masses,  which 
the  Government  Schools  of  Art  were  attempting 
to  do,  but  to  raise  the  masses  to  an  appreciation 
of  the  real  qualities  involved  in  vital  Art,  to 
make  them  fully  receptive  and  capable  of  it. 
He  had  been  now  for  ten  years  teaching  and 
preaching   in    honied   words,   and   with   apparent 


I  Biographical  25 

acceptance,  that  people  must  be  good  or  they 
could  not  paint,  and  yet  they  remained  very  much 
as  they  were  ;  he  now  set  himself  for  another  ten 
years  to  find  out  what  it  was  that  hindered  the 
fulfilment  of  his  ideals,  and  the  fruition  of  his 
hopes.  From  1 860  onward  he  worked  at  ethics 
and  political  economy,  much  derided,  much  re- 
gretted, as  a  lost  leader  who  had  strayed  from  the 
safe  ground  of  eloquence  and  Art  into  the  mire  of 
Quixotism  and  Utopianism.  But  in  all  this  he 
was  only  developing  the  main  principle  of  his  life 
— the  many-sided  doctrine  of  sincerity. 

In  1869  he  was  elected  to  the  Chair  of  Fine 
Art,  newly  endowed  at  Oxford,  and  at  once  began 
to  revise  his  teaching.  We  have  seen  that  his 
progress  was  continuous,  by  addition  and  extension 
of  interests  ;  and  now  he  had  to  combine  into  a 
new  system  his  ideal  of  landscape,  as  the  Art  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  begun  by  Turner  and  left 
incomplete  at  Turner's  death,  complemented  by 
the  new  beginning  of  Pre-Raphaelitism,  but  never 
carried  beyond  the  stage  of  studentship ;  with 
these  to  join  what  could  be  learnt  from  the 
masterpieces  of  Greece  and  Italy  ;  and  in  all,  and 
through  all,  to  inculcate  (as  literally  as  you  like) 
the  burden  of  his  prophecy,  "  You  must  be  good, 
you  must  all  be  good,  or  real  art  is  impossible." 

As  they  stand,  the  Oxford  Lectures  are  the 
sum  and  crown  of  his  work  in  Art -Teaching ; 
what  they  might  have  been,  with  health  and  full 
measure  of  strength,  it  is  useless  to  speculate. 
But  they  go  deeper  and  reach  farther  than  the 
more  limited  aim  of  the  early  treatises  ;  and  they 


26  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskm  chap. 

were  so  planned  as  to  form  a  consistent  and 
systematic  review  of  all  Art  in  its  relation  to  all 
life, — surely  too  great  an  undertaking  for  the 
broken  powers  and  divided  interests  with  which 
Ruskin  found  himself,  a  wearied  man  and 
advanced  in  years,  disappointed  of  his  hopes  and 
frustrated  in  his  ambitions,  in  the  world — to  him 
all  changed  and  unfamiliar — of  modern  Oxford. 

A  smiling  crowd  in  his  lecture-room  ;  and  in 
the  drawing  school,  which  he  had  endowed  and 
furnished  with  the  thought  and  care  that  no 
money  could  buy,  three  pupils  (when  I  was  there) 
out  of  all  the  University.  After  thirty  years  of 
fame  and  professions  of  public  respect,  his  appeals 
to  the  public  for  the  preservation  of  invaluable 
monuments — or  for  social  schemes,  the  sum  and 
substance  of  his  life's  teaching — were  practically 
unheard.  Similar  schemes  to-day,  founded  upon 
Ruskin's  plans,  are  eagerly  supported  by  all  parties  ; 
objects  which  seemed  impossible  of  attainment, 
both  in  the  Art  world  and  in  the  world  of  political 
economy,  twenty  years  ago,  are  now  within 
measurable  distance,  as  many  think.  But  Ruskin 
was  before  his  age  ;  people  regretted  the  melli- 
fluous chaplain  of  the  Sistine  and  St.  Mark's,  to 
whose  sermons  they  had  become  accustomed  for 
many  a  year  past ;  and  here  was  he,  grown  hermit, 
and  fanatic  with  new  prophetic  visions  and  a 
burden  of  Babylonian  woe,  and  apocalyptic  mess- 
ages of  reawakening  to  the  churches  he  had  helped 
to  build  in  times  gone  by.  And  so  his  tone 
became  rougher  and  bitterer,  his  utterances  more 
broken  and  splenetic.      Mistrusted  by  his  former 


I  Biographical  27 

friends  and  helpers  ;  caricatured  like  Socrates  as 
chief  Sophist  of  the  Esthetes,  in  utter  misunder- 
standing of  his  purpose  ;  caged  like  Tasso,  and 
baited  to  madness,  for  the  amusement  of  the  mob  ; 
he  saw  his  doctrines  one  by  one  accepted,  but  from 
other  lips  ;  his  work  piece  by  piece  performed,  but 
by  other  hands.  He  had  been  before  his  age 
throughout ;  in  the  forefront  of  every  battle  ;  and 
all  the  thanks  he  got  was,  "  C'est  magnifique,  mais 
ce  n'est  pas  la  guerre." 

10.  His  Writings  on  Art:  Modern  Painters 
Group. — There  are  then  two  main  periods  in  Mr. 
Ruskin's  Art- Teaching — the  first  ranging  from 
1843,  when  he  published  the  first  volume  of 
Modern  Painters^  till  1 860,  when  the  last  volume 
appeared;  and  the  second  from  1870,  when  he 
began  his  Lectures  at  Oxford,  till  1884,  when  he 
broke  down  in  mind  and  body,  and  resigned  his 
professorship.  Before  proceeding  to  his  doctrines, 
it  will  help  the  student  to  review  the  books  in 
which  they  are  found,  noting  their  chief  contents 
and  their  position  in  the  development  of  his 
thought.  I  omit  mention  of  letters  and  catalogues, 
and  works  which  do  not  mainly  and  professedly 
deal  with  Art. 

Modern  Painters,  vol.  i.  (1843) — first  attempt 
at  a  consistent  Art-Philosophy  ;  followed  by  slight 
preliminary  review  of  the  relation  of  landscape 
painting  to  natural  phenomena,  with  reference  to 
the  truth  of  Turner's  pictures. 

Modern  Painters,  vol.  ii.  (1846) — the  theory 
of  Beauty  and  Imagination  from  a  theistic 
standpoint,   still    keeping    touch    with    Academic 


28  Art- Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

principles,  and  tinged  with  Evangelical  theology 
to  a  certain  extent. 

Reviews  in  the  Quarterly  of  Lord  Lindsay's 
Christian  Art  (1847)  and  Eastlake's  History  of 
Oil- Painting  (1848),  reprinted  in  On  the  Old 
Road,  a  collection  of  Mr.  Ruskin's  essays  and 
pamphlets. 

Tlie  Seven  Lamps  of  Architecture  (1849),  a 
treatise  on  the  conditions  of  greatness  in  the  art 
of  building  and  decoration,  showing  the  influence 
of  religious  and  moral  sincerity,  above  all  things, 
and  its  manifestation  in  the  development  of 
technical  qualities. 

A  short  notice  of  "  Samuel  Prout"  (1849),  re- 
printed from  the  Art  Journal  in  On  the  Old  Road. 

A  pamphlet  on  "  Pre-Raphaelitism "  (August 
1 851),  reprinted  in  On  the  Old  Road. 

The  Stones  of  Venice,  vol.  i.  (February  i  8  5  i ) — 
a  priori  evolution  of  the  various  styles  and  features 
of  architectural  construction  and  ornament.  Vols, 
ii.  and  iii.  (1852)  review  the  history  of  Venetian 
architecture  in  three  periods — Byzantine,  Gothic, 
and  Renaissance  ;  and  examine  the  reaction  of 
political  and  moral  conditions  upon  the  buildings 
and  styles  under  notice  ;  closing  with  a  complete 
guide  to  all  the  great  remains  of  Art  in  Venice. 
As  a  companion  to  this  work,  a  portfolio  of 
Examples  of  the  Architecture  of  Venice,  drawings 
by  the  author  reproduced  as  fine  engravings  in 
line,  mezzotint,  and  chromolithography. 

Lectures  on  Architecture  and  Painting,  given 
at  Edinburgh  in  November  1853,  advocating 
Gothic  as   a   domestic  style,  and  shortly  stating 


I  Biographical  29 

the  character  and  aims  of  Turner  and  the  Pre- 
RaphaeHtes. 

A  pamphlet  on  "  The  Opening  of  the  Crystal 
Palace"  (1854),  criticising  the  style  of  the  build- 
ing, and  appealing  against  the  so-called  Restora- 
tion of  the  monuments  of  ancient  architecture — 
the  first  note  of  the  ideas  since  carried  into  action 
by  the  Society  for  the  Preservation  of  Ancient 
Buildings. 

The  Elements  of  Drawing — in  three  Letters  to 
Beginners, — on  First  Practice,  on  Sketching  from 
Nature,  and  on  Colour  and  Composition,  with 
Appendix, — Things  to  be  Studied  (1855).  This 
work  was  based  on  the  methods  of  the  Pre- 
Raphaelites  and  of  William  Hunt,  taught  at  the 
Working  Men's  College,  and  aimed  at  giving  the 
pupil  a  command  of  the  pen-point,  used  as  an 
etching -needle,  in  the  style  of  Rembrandt's 
etchings.  In  later  times  Mr.  Ruskin  thought  it 
desirable  to  confine  the  use  of  this  point,  in 
student's  practice,  to  pure  outline,  giving  tone  and 
shading  with  the  brush.  Consequently  he  refused 
to  reprint  Tlte  Elements  of  Drawing,  and  began 
The  Laws  of  Fesole  to  supersede  it,  but  never 
completed  the  new  book. 

In  1855-59  he  published  yearly  Notes  on 
the  Royal  Academy  and  other  exhibitions,  com- 
menting on  the  progress  of  Pre-Raphaelitism  and 
Naturalistic  Landscape. 

Modern  Painters,  vols.  iii.  and  iv.,  appeared  in 
1856,  treating  of  Naturalistic  and  Imaginative 
Ideals  as  opposed  to  Academicism ;  and  the  history 
of  Landscape  (vol.  iii.)  ;  and  of  Mountain  Beauty 


30  A  rt- Teaching  of  Rtcs kin  chap. 

— an  analysis  of  Alpine  structure  and  the  spirit 

in  which  it  can  be  made  a  subject  of  Art  (vol.  iv.) 

Notes  on   the   Turners  at  Marlborough  House 

(i8S7). 

The  Political  Economy  of  Art,  lectures  at 
Manchester  during  the  Art  Treasures  Exhibition 
(1857),  now  reprinted  under  the  title  of  A  Joy  for 
Ever,  and  its  Price  in  the  Market. 

"  Inaugural  Address  at  the  Cambridge  School 
of  Art"  (29th  October  1858),  first  published  as 
a  pamphlet,  and  reprinted  in  On  the  Old  Road, 
stating  the  uses  of  Art  and  its  abuse. 

TJu  Two  Paths  (1859),  lectures  delivered  at 
the  newly-opened  South  Kensington  Museum  and 
elsewhere  on  the  application  of  Art  to  decoration 
and  manufacture. 

The  Elements  of  Perspective  (1859),  a  com- 
panion to  the  Elements  of  Drawing,  now  out  of 
print. 

"  Sir  Joshua  and  Holbein,"  a  paper  in  the 
Cornhill  Magazine  (March  i860)  comparing  the 
two  painters  ;  reprinted  in  On  the  Old  Road. 

Modern  Painters,  vol.  v.  (i860),  concluding  the 
work  with  analyses  of  natural  aspects  in  vegeta- 
tion and  clouds,  "  invention  "  or  artistic  imagina- 
tive composition,  and  a  summary  of  the  history 
of  Art  to  the  time  of  Turner  in  a  series  of 
contrasts  of  leading  masters  and  their  ideals. 

1 1.  Works  on  Art :  Oxford  Lectures  Group. — 
In  the  interval  between  the  completion  of  Modern 
Painters  and  the  call  to  Oxford  Mr.  Ruskin  was 
occupied  mainly  with  social  subjects  and  political 
economy.      He  wrote,  in  relation  to  Art,  a  paper 


I  Biographical  3 1 

on  '*  The  Study  of  Architecture,"  read  at  the  Royal 
Institute  of  British  Architects,  15th  May  1865, 
reprinted  in  On  the  Old  Road;  and  ten  papers 
called  "The  Cestus  of  Aglaia,"  in  the  Art 
Journal  (1865-66),  foreshadowing  his  Oxford 
teaching, — these  are  partly  reprinted  in  On  the 
Old  Roady  partly  in  The  Queen  of  tJie  Air  \  to 
which  may  be  added  various  papers  on  Verona 
(1870). 

The  first  series  of  Oxford  Lectures  (1870)  is  a 
careful  restatement  of  his  matured  theory  of  Art,  in 
its  relation  to  national  character,  religion,  morals, 
and  practical  use  ;  and  the  chief  laws  of  technical 
employment  of  line,  light  and  shade,  and  colour. 

Aratra  Pentelici  (1870)  lays  down  the  laws  of 
development  in  Greek  sculpture,  and  the  moral 
derived  therefrom  ;  the  concluding  lecture,  on 
Michelangelo  and  Tintoret,  is  published  separately. 

The  Eagle's  Nest  (1872)  treats  of  the  relation 
of  Art  to  Science, 

Ariadne  Florentina  (1872)  of  the  principles  of 
engraving,  as  exemplified  in  early  Italian  etching 
and  Holbein's  woodcuts. 

Val  d'Arno  (1873)  of  early  Tuscan  Art,  in  its 
relation  to  the  history  of  Florence. 

The  Laws  of  Fesole  {iZy  y),  a  text-book  intended 
to  supersede  Elements  of  Drawings  for  use  in  the 
Ruskin  Drawing  School  at  Oxford.  Vol.  i.  only 
was  written. 

Other  courses  of  Lectures  on  Art  were  not 
published ;  and  some  of  those  given  by  the  Slade 
Professor,  and  published  among  his  works,  are 
only  indirectly  connected  with  artistic  subjects. 


32  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

Mornings  in  Florence  and  St.  Mark's  Rest  are 
guides  to  the  ancient  monuments  and  works  of 
art  in  Florence  and  Venice.  Academy  Notes  were 
resumed  in  1875,  for  that  occasion  only. 

"The  Three  Colours  of  Pre-Raphaelitism," 
papers  in  the  Nincteejith  Century  (i  878),  reprinted 
in  On  the  Old  Road,  restate  the  importance  to  Art 
of  sincerity,  and  give  Mr.  Burne- Jones  a  place 
with  the  earlier  Pre-Raphaelite  masters. 

Finally,  during  1883,  when  Mr.  Ruskin  had 
returned  to  Oxford  after  several  years'  absence,  he 
delivered  the  course  of  Lectures  on  Contemporary 
Painting,  published  as  The  Art  of  England. 

The  above  works  are  all  in  print,  and  to  be 
had  of  his  publisher,  Mr.  George  Allen,  8  Bell 
Yard,  Temple  Bar,  with  the  exception  of  TJie 
Eletnents  of  Drawing,  tlie  Elcinents  of  Perspective, 
and,  for  the  present  at  least,  the  Notes  on  the 
Academy.  Some  of  the  works  are  to  be  had 
in  cheap  editions,  within  the  reach  of  students 
of  ordinary  means  ;  who,  if  they  wish  to  get  a 
good  working  knowledge  of  Mr.  Ruskin's  Art- 
Teaching,  ought  to  possess  the  Lectures  on  Art, 
Two  Pat/is,  Eagle's  Nest,  and  A  foy  for  Ever 
{Political  Economy  of  Art) — four  volumes  at  five 
shillings  each  ;  these  four  are,  on  the  whole,  the 
most  important  to  read  and  reread.  Four  more 
small  volumes,  illustrated,  costing  seven  shillings 
and  sixpence  each,  are  desirable,  namely  Aratra 
Pentelici,  A  riadne  Florentina,  A  rchitecture  and  Paint- 
ing and  TJu  Seven  Lamps.  The  second  volume 
of  Modern  Painters  is  published  in  a  small  edition, 
with  new  introduction  and  notes  (1883),  ^t  ten 


I  Biographical  33 

shillings,  and  is  useful  as  supplementing  the  above- 
mentioned  on  many  points,  and  giving,  with  The 
Seven  Lanips^  an  idea  of  the  author's  earlier  teach- 
ing. And  The  Laws  of  Fesole,  ten  shillings,  should 
be  obtained  by  those  who  wish  to  follow  out  Mr. 
Ruskin's  method  in  practical  work  with  pencil 
and  brush. 

As  the  object  of  the  following  chapters  is  to 
help  the  isolated  and  independent  student  of  Mr. 
Ruskin's  works,  I  shall  assume  that  my  reader 
possesses  at  least  the  first  four  cheap  volumes, 
and  that  he  means  to  study  them  in  the  same 
spirit  in  which  he  would  study  the  Republic  of 
Plato  or  the  Ethics  of  Aristotle — that  is,  not  as 
mere  current  literature,  as  charming  essays,  or 
keen  reviews,  but  as  important  sections  of  a  com- 
plete system  of  thought,  only  to  be  understood  in 
the  light  of  an  adequate  knowledge  of  the  circum- 
stances under  which  they  were  written,  and  the 
aims  to  which  they  were  addressed.  The  critic 
or  student  of  Art  may  or  may  not  ultimately 
accept  Ruskin's  teaching,  but  he  owes  it  to  himself 
to  understand  it. 


D 


CHAPTER    II 

THE    NATURE   OF   ART 

12.  Real  and  False  Art. — To  be  quite  formal 
and  systematic  we  ought  to  ask,  before  proceeding 
to  further  inquiries,  this  question  :  "  Is  Art  a  real 
thing,  worth  serious  consideration  ?  or  only  a 
chimaera,  a  delusion  ?  Does  it  exist  ?  "  For  it  is 
no  use  examining  the  nature,  end,  or  use  of  any- 
thing, unless  we  are  sure  that  our  terms  are  not 
mere  empty  and  idle  words  ;  and  especially  in  the 
case  of  Art  this  is  worth  while,  because  to  many 
people  painting  and  sculpture  are  vanities,  about 
which  it  matters  very  little  what  is  thought  or 
what  is  done.  Even  to  some  who  sincerely  delight 
in  them,  they  are  very  subordinate  to  what  they 
call  the  serious  business  of  life  ;  they  do  not  for 
a  moment  rank  with  grave  subjects  of  thought, 
such  as  science  or  politics,  morality  or  religion. 
But  if  Art  really  exists  as  a  vital  fact  of  the 
universe  and  an  important  element  in  human  life, 
if  it  grows  and  flourishes  and  decays  like  any 
other  great  human  institution,  if  it  has  an  actual 
influence  on  mankind,  or  serves  as  an  index  and 
exponent  of  progress  and    civilisation  ;   then  the 


CHAP.  II  The  Nature  of  Art  35 

study  of  Art  must  be  really  valuable,  if  not  in- 
dispensable. 

Mr.  Ruskin  everywhere  assumes  that  this  is 
the  case.  But  he  distinguishes,  throughout  his 
writings,  between  this  Real  Art  and  something  that 
pretends  to  rank  with  it,  but  is  merely  an  imita- 
tion. For  instance,  he  mentions  the  forms  of 
what  is  not  Art,  but  inartistic  production,  that 
exist  among  us  {L.  A.,  §  82) :  and  speaking  of  the 
painters  of  the  day  he  says  that  modern  life  is  so 
broken  up  and  imitative  that  sometimes  you  not 
only  cannot  tell  what  a  man  is,  but  whether  he  z's] — 
a  spirit,  or  an  echo  (Z.  A.,  §  75).  That  is  to  say, 
much  that  passes  for  Art  is  a  mockery,  a  super- 
ficial imitation  of  the  real  thing,  presenting  no 
true  reality  to  study,  no  universal  laws  of  life  to 
expound  ;  it  is  derivative,  and  content  with  cold 
reproductions  of  common  types  ;  it  aims  at  no 
sincere  and  honest  original  effort.  And  the 
persons  who  produce  these  derivative  works,  how- 
ever ingenious  and  clever,  are  not  real  artists,  but 
manufacturers  of  pictures  or  carvings.  Strictly 
speaking,  he  says,  what  people  call  inferior  painters 
are  in  general  no  painters  (7".  P.,  Appendix  i). 

Whenever  he  uses  the  word  Art,  therefore,  he 
understands  Real  Art  as  distinguished  from  the 
mockeries  of  it,  that  distort  its  reality  as  in  a 
mirage ;  Real  Art  possessing  and  exhibiting  a 
certain  vital  power,  which,  like  any  other  form  of 
life,  is  subject  to  law  and  is  material  for  scientific 
inquiry.  Its  possession  of  vitality  is  shown  by  its 
history,  by  the  rise  and  decay  of  schools,  and  by 
their  correspondence  with  contemporary  phases  of 


36  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskhi  chap. 

national  life  ;  and  shown  further  by  its  influence 
on  men,  its  real  help  or  hindrance  to  them  as 
giving  right  pleasure  and  true  instruction,  or  the 
reverse.  He  does  not  mean  that  Art  is  real  only 
when  it  is  moral  and  didactic,  nor  does  he  refuse  to 
consider  any  in  which  he  detects  an  evil  tendency, 
an  influence  producing  or  indicating  low  civilisation 
and  base  morals.  Such  may  be  only  too  real  ; 
though  he  is  never  weary,  as  every  reader  knows, 
of  demonstrating  the  catastrophe  wrought  or  indi- 
cated by  it.  With  Mr.  Ruskin  both  Science  and 
Art  are  looked  upon  as  valuable  in  proportion 
to  the  nobility  of  their  subject-matter;  so  that 
there  is  real  Art  which  is  bad,  just  as  real  Science 
may  be  used  for  bad  ends — as  the  compounding 
of  poisons.  But  Science  is  false  or  sham  when 
it  proceeds  upon  unfounded  assumptions,  and 
treats  of  non-existent  materials  ;  when  its  con- 
clusions are  false,  not  true :  and  Art  is  sham  when 
it  is  false  and  futile,  representing  forms  which  the 
artist  has  neither  seen  nor  even  dreamed,  or 
professing  to  translate  emotions  which  the  artist 
has  never  felt.  Parallel  with  the  pseudo-sciences 
there  is  Sham  Art — a  parasite  of  the  vital  growth, 
a  shadow  of  the  substance ;  and  it  is  the  too 
frequent  presence  of  this  Sham  that  makes  some 
people  doubt  the  existence  of  the  Real,  and  others 
doubt  the  validity  of  an  inquiry  into  its  nature 
and  laws. 

1 3.  Aphoristic  Definitions. — It  is  not  entirely 
a  gain  that  Mr.  Ruskin  is  so  skilled  in  epigram 
and  aphorism.  Readers  sometimes  carry  away  a 
phrase  from  his  writings  which,  when  the  context  is 


11  The  Nature  of  Art  37 

forgotten,  misleads  them  ;  for  though  right  in  one 
connection,  it  may  be  wrong  in  another.  And 
from  the  mere  fact  that  his  aphoristic  definitions 
of  Art  are  so  various,  being  given  with  the  purpose 
of  fixing  a  certain  limited  idea,  it  seems  sometimes 
that  they  are  insufficient  and  inharmonious.  But 
his  chief  concern  is  generally  to  mark  off  Real  Art 
from  Sham  ;  for  instance,  when  he  says  :  Art  is  a 
language  expressing  ideas,  and  the  greatest  Art 
is  that  which  expresses  the  greatest  number  of  the 
greatest  ideas  {M.  P.,  vol.  i.  pp.  7,  11),  which 
was  his  first  position  with  regard  to  his  subject. 
In  another  context.  Art  has  for  its  business  to 
praise  God  {M.  P.,  vol.  i.  p.  xxiii.) ;  and  again.  Great 
Art  is  the  expression  of  the  mind  of  a  God-made 
great  man  (il/.  /*.,  vol.  iii.  p.  44)  ;  and,  differently 
intended,  Art  is  the  expression  of  delight  in  God's 
work  [M.  P.,  vol.  V.  p.  206).  From  that  he  glides  to 
— All  great  Art  is  praise  (Z.  F.,  chap,  i.) ;  and,  Art 
is  the  exponent  of  ethical  life  {L.  A.,^  27),  which 
leads  the  way  to  the  notion  of  it  as  merely  human 
labour  regulated  by  human  design  {L.  A.,  §  172), 
or,  any  modification  of  things  substantial  by  sub- 
stantial power  {E.  N.,  Lect.  i.),  so  long  as  it  states 
a  true  thing  or  adorns  a  serviceable  one  (Z.  A.,  §  98). 
Fine  Art  is  that  in  which  the  hand,  the  head,  and 
the  heart  of  man  go  together  (Z!  P.,  §  54). 

This  selection  of  his  sayings  on  the  Nature  of 
Art  does  not  include  anything  like  a  philosophical 
definition  ;  they  are  descriptive  ;  and  they  describe 
different  phases  of  Art  as  it  appeared  to  the  writer 
at  different  periods  of  his  thought.  Ruskin's 
teaching,  like  Art,  has  a  vital  power  ;  and  one  of 


38  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskift  chap. 

the  evidences  of  its  vitality  is  its  growth.  To 
those  who  find  saplings  useful  for  walking-sticks, 
a  full-grown  tree  is  otiose  ;  and  many  who  assented 
to  Modern  Painters  regret  the  broad  spreading 
ramifications  of  his  later  work.  But  at  the  same 
time  this  candid  self-criticism  and  continual 
reconstruction  of  belief  is  a  warrant  of  sincerity. 
It  is  a  cheap  thing  to  adopt  a  system  and  stick 
to  it ;  when  it  is  cut  and  dried  it  is  apt  to  com- 
mand less  confidence  ;  but  you  trust  the  living 
bough. 

But  from  these  aphorisms  it  is  plain  that  Mr. 
Ruskin  proposes  to  his  readers  two  distinctions  : 
the  first  between  Real  Art  and  Sham  ;  and  the 
second  between  Great  Art  and  something  else 
that  is  Real  but  not  Great.  Both  these  distinc- 
tions are  difficult  to  make  at  the  moment ;  and 
even  when  the  subject  under  consideration  is  in 
the  comfortable  distance  of  past  history,  judgments 
may  differ  on  a  particular  work.  But  the  dis- 
tinction is  a  real  one.  Sham  Art  is  derivative, 
insincere,  inadequate  :  Real  Art  is  a  living  organ- 
ism, inviting  study  like  any  other  organism, 
with  its  natural  laws  of  growth  and  its  vital 
influence  on  mankind.     And  some  of  it  is  Great. 

14.  Great  Art  and  High  Art. — In  the  last 
century  it  was  commonly  thought  that  all  portrait- 
painting,  and  genre,  and  still  life,  and  what  we 
popularly  call  decorative  work,  as  well  as  land- 
scape for  the  most  part,  were  inferior  kinds  ;  in 
contradistinction  to  which  stood  something  that 
was  called  High  Art.  The  most  accessible  ex- 
position   of  the   doctrine   is   that    of  Sir   Joshua 


n  The  Nature  of  Art  39 

Reynolds  in  his  discourses.  He  summed  up  the 
Academic  teaching,  and  formulated  rules  for  the 
production  of  High  Art ;  not  claiming  that  he 
followed  that  manner  himself,  for  he  was  only  a 
portraitist,  and  in  his  heart  admired  the  Venetians, 
who  were  not  thought  to  rank  so  high  as  the 
Roman  School  of  Michelangelo  and  Raphael.  He 
put  the  whole  art  of  painting  under  four  cate- 
gories, and  deduced,  from  accepted  examples,  the 
principles  of  their  production  :  how  to  create  High 
Art — the  Grand  Style. 

Grand  Inventio7t,  he  says,  is  the  generalisation 
of  the  mental  visions  which  all  have  of  any  inci- 
dent, not  the  particular  private  view  of  any  one 
person.  "  Some  circumstances  of  minuteness  and 
particularity"  may  give  an  air  of  truth,  and  be 
admitted  with  caution.  But  truth  is  not  admitted 
for  its  own  sake.  For  instance,  St.  Paul  is  not 
to  be  painted  as  weak  in  bodily  presence  ;  Alex- 
ander the  Great  not,  as  he  was,  of  short  stature  ; 
Agesilaus,  not  as  deformed.  But  what  the  public 
in  general  would  imagine  them  to  be,  so  they 
must  be  represented. 

Grand  Expression  also  allows  no  particularisa- 
tion  ;  when  Bernini  sculptured  his  David  as  biting 
the  lip  in  the  act  of  slinging,  he  sinned  against 
grandeur.  The  "  blitheness  and  repose "  of  a 
Greek  god  is  the  model  on  which  every  counte- 
nance and  attitude  should  be  formed. 

In  Colouring,  because  the  remains  of  ancient 
statuary  are  colourless,  for  aught  he  knew,  and 
because  Michelangelo,  for  their  sake,  denied  him- 
self the  glory  and  the  gold  which  his  predecessors 


40  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

and  patrons  loved,  the  Grand  Style  allows  no 
"  artful  play  of  little  lights  or  variety  of  tints." 
It  should  be  harmonious  to  monotony,  or  distinct, 
like  martial  music. 

And  in  Drapery,  for  that  is  the  final  category 
of  Academic  picture-making,  there  must  be  no 
discrimination  of  stuffs,  but  merely  folds  of 
classical  curtains  and  robes. 

We  know  how  this  advice  was  taken,  and  what 
came  of  it  The  Grand  Historical  School,  working 
on  Reynolds's  rules,  became  the  laughing-stock 
of  Europe  ;  it  became  the  mere  reflex  of  used- 
up  ideas  and  worn-out  forms,  without  vitality, 
without  influence  or  interest ;  mere  Sham  Art. 
And  so  Mr.  Ruskin  was  led  to  inquire  into  the 
subject  from  another  point  of  view  {M.  /*.,  vol.  iii,), 
not  now  seeking  external  signs,  but  analysing  the 
more  intimate  motives  of  production.  And  from 
his  inquiry  he  was  led  on  to  the  conviction  that 
Art  has  its  root  and  origin  in  something  deeper 
than  formulae  ;  that  it  is  really  conditioned  by  the 
whole  nature  of  the  artist,  by  his  morality,  his 
position  in  the  community,  his  relation  to  the 
world  and  to  God  ; — that  Art  is  great  in  pro- 
portion as  the  producer  is  great — not  only  as  an 
artist,  but  as  a  man. 

In  reading  Ruskin  we  have  therefore  to  re- 
member that  beside  his  development  of  personal 
attitude  to  the  question,  he  has  two  main  objects 
in  view — the  discrimination  of  Real  Art  from 
everything  else,  and  the  valuation  of  it  as  greater 
or  less  in  the  sum  of  its  achievement. 

15.  Art  and  Manufacture. — There  are  many 


II  The  Nature  of  Art  41 

degrees  of  greatness  among  the  various  kinds  of 
Art,  although  they  are  all  true  and  real  :  and 
from  the  highest  efforts  of  painting  and  sculpture 
they  pass  in  unbroken  series  to  the  minor  handi- 
crafts, which  may  be  artistic,  if  they  are  carried 
on  by  artists ;  or  they  may  be  mere  manufacture, 
and  not  Art  at  all.  A  manufacture  is  the  product 
of  the  hands,  with  a  minimum  of  brain  power. 
In  mechanical  employments  the  skill  is.  a  sort  of 
reflex-action  :  when  the  head  is  allowed  to  busy 
itself  it  destroys  the  manual  skill  by  hesitation 
as  to  method  and  adaptation  ;  and  the  workman 
is  told  not  to  think,  but  to  do  what  he  knows. 
But  when  the  head  must  needs  direct  the  hands, 
consciously,  and  as  a  dominant  and  continual 
guide,  the  work  is  a  form  of  Art :  a  low  form,  but 
a  true  one.  Every  employment  can  be  turned, 
in  some  of  its  branches,  into  an  Art ;  carpentry, 
or  agriculture,  or  the  making  of  fabrics  for  clothes, 
can  be  treated  as  a  manufacture,  or  as  an  art ; 
and  it  is  usually  the  case  that  when  these  things 
become  artistic,  and  attest  thought,  they  are 
considered  more  valuable.  But  they  do  not  reach 
the  rank  of  Fine  Art  until  the  whole  man  is 
employed ;  and  the  whole  man  has  more  than 
hands  and  a  head  ;  he  has  feelings  and  emotions, 
what  is  popularly  called  heart.  And  when  the 
emotions  become  the  dominant  power  they  bring 
in  the  likes  and  dislikes  of  the  worker,  they  display 
his  tastes,  they  reveal  an  attempt  to  impart  Beauty 
to  the  work  which  the  head  endowed  only  with 
utility. 

And  so  we  get  the  lower  Arts,  in  which  the 


42  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

emotions  have  little  play,  and  Beauty  no  conceded 
position  ;  and  the  Fine  Arts,  no  matter  to  what 
material  adapted.  Decoration  of  any  kind  is  just 
as  truly  a  Fine  Art  as  painting  pictures,  though 
there  is  not  the  same  scope  for  the  whole  great- 
ness of  a  profound  intellect  and  wide  sympathies 
to  display  itself.  This  more  extended  view  of 
Art  is  the  chief  difference  between  Ruskin's  earlier 
and  his  later  writings :  in  Modern  Painters  he 
looked  at  Art  as  a  Language  ;  in  his  more  recent 
writings  he  looks  at  it  as  an  Activity,  as  the  pro- 
duction of  concrete  objects  in  obedience  to  certain 
instincts — of  which  more  hereafter. 

1 6.  Ideas  of  Power. — Yet  he  did  not  neglect 
the  handicraft-element,  even  in  his  earliest  theory. 
His  statement,  at  the  outset  of  Modern  Painters^ 
that  Art  is  a  Language  expressing  Ideas  of  Power, 
Imitation,  Truth,  Beauty,  and  Relation  implies  that 
he  did  not  mean  to  regard  painting  as  a  mere 
vehicle  for  what  is  rightly  discriminated  by  artists 
as  the  "  literary  subject,"  to  the  exclusion  of  the 
"  artistic  subject."  He  notes  that  many  thoughts 
are  dependent  on  the  language  in  which  they  are 
clothed  ;  and  that  certain  ideas  belong  to  language 
itself.  The  first  set  of  ideas,  those  of  Power,  involve 
the  purely  artistic  process  of  the  creation  of  a  work 
of  art,  and  mean,  partly,  what  we  call  Execution 
and  Technical  ability.  The  pleasure  they  produce 
is  that  felt  by  the  worker  in  his  triumph  over  diffi- 
culties, and  by  the  spectator  in  witnessing  the 
triumph.  And  although  the  purpose  of  Modern 
Painters  was  to  call  the  attention  of  critics  to 
the   thought   and    truth    in    Turner's    later   work, 


II  The  Nature  of  Art  43 

the  author,  with  a  candour  uncommon  in  special 
pleaders,  began  by  showing  that  part  of  the  interest 
of  Art  is  in  the  Power  shown  by  the  dexterity  and 
craftsmanship  of  the  artist 

When  this  interest  is  the  admiration  and  wonder 
at  an  inexplicable  talent, — as  much  an  instinct  as 
the  power  of  nest-building  in  a  bird  or  hive-build- 
ing in  a  bee, — it  partakes  of  that  high  pleasure 
with  which,  as  we  shall  see,  mankind  contemplates 
the  nobler  forms  of  Beauty ;  it  is  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  artist  as  himself  a  work,  so  to  speak,  of 
Divine  Art.  But  when  it  is  merely  the  applause 
of  the  mob  at  a  cheap  tour  de  force, — the  attention 
of  the  conjuror's  apprentice  trying  to  learn  the 
trick  of  it,  to  the  entire  oblivion  of  anything  higher 
in  the  world  than  executive  dexterity,  then  it 
panders  to  the  most  prevalent  and  pernicious  form 
of  Sham  Art,  Nobody  has  more  highly  appreci- 
ated Execution  than  Ruskin  ;  from  the  finesse  of 
Turner's  hand,  inconceivably  microcosmic  {T.  P., 
Appendix  4),  to  the  colossal  brush-strokes  of  Tin- 
toret,  painting  tree-trunks  in  two  touches  apiece. 
Durer's  severe  and  subtle  pen-stroke  ;  Meissonier's 
realism  in  miniature ;  the  free  handling  of  Rey- 
nolds, and  the  flawless  modelling  of  Holbein  have 
alike  won  his  praise.  It  is  jonly  where  the  "  finish  " 
is  thoughtless  niggling,  as  in  Hobbima's  trees,  or 
the  "  freedom"  is  licentious  slapdash — si  exempluni 
qucBris,  circumspice — that  Ruskin  steps  in  with  his 
veto.  Execution  as  a  source  of  pleasure  in  Art, 
nay,  as  an  integral  part  of  the  aim  and  purpose  of 
it,  he  is  far  from  despising. 

But  the  aim  of  Art  is  something  more  than 


44  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

Execution  ;  and  the  idea  of  Power  suggests  not 
only  the  sense  of  energy  perceived  in  the  artist, 
but  also  the  sense  of  great  forces  in  action  repre- 
sented in  his  subject, — what  is  called  Sublimity. 
This  has  been  usually  separated  from  Beauty,  as  if 
the  two  were  quite  distinct  and  co-ordinate  aims, 
as  if  Art  had  two  aims  of  equal  value  and  indif- 
ferent application.  Ruskin  dismisses  Sublimity 
from  that  position,  pointing  out  that  it  is  not 
foreign  to  Beauty,  but  the  effect  on  the  mind  of 
greatness,  of  infinity,  which,  as  we  shall  see,  is  one 
of  the  elements  of  the  Beautiful  {M.  P.,  vol.  i.  p.  40). 
Etymologically  the  Sublime  is  what  "  lifts  one  off 
his  feet "  ;  and  the  feeling  that  there  is  a  something 
infinite  and  terrible,  of  forces  and  laws  past  com- 
prehension, even  in  the  fashioning  of  the  least 
flower  or  pebble,  grows  upon  the  instructed  mind 
into  the  same  sense  of  Sublimity  as  that  which  is 
forced  upon  the  ignorant  and  unreflective  by  a 
thunderstorm  or  a  cataract.  S.  T.  Coleridge  was 
fond  of  telling  how,  at  the  Falls  of  the  Clyde,  he 
pronounced  the  scene  "  essentially  sublime  " ;  and 
heard  with  contempt  a  lady  rejoin,  "  Yes,  it  is 
beautiful."  The  beauty  of  the  lines  of  rushing 
foam,  of  crystalline  transparency  and  iridescent 
mystery  were  nothing. to  him — as  doctrinaire  in 
Kantian  Art-Philosophy — in  comparison  with  the 
overwhelming  certainty  that  if  he  fell  in  he  was 
sure  to  be  drowned.  But  Coleridge,  as  poet, 
could  describe  the  sublimity,  the  fearsomeness  of 
the  sight  of  a  frail  and  loVely  figure  in  the  moon- 
light • "  beautiful  exceedingly."  I  do  not  mean 
that  the  Sublime  and  the  Beautiful  are  one  and 


ir  The  Nature  of  Art  45 

the  same,  but  they  are  two  developments  of  one 
principle. 

Sublimity  is  therefore  not  to  be  classed  as  a 
separate,  collateral  factor  of  Art,  but  as  closely 
connected  with  Beauty  on  the  one  hand  and 
Imagination  on  the  other  (§  60)  ;  and  Great  Art 
is,  in  the  first  place,  conditioned  by  these  ideas  of 
Power,  by  consummate  execution,  and  the  highest 
reach  of  nobility  in  the  forms  portrayed.  Of  the 
other  ideas  named  at  the  beginning  of  Modern 
Painters,  those  of  Relation  seem  to  be  specially 
connected  with  the  Imagination  and  its  work  ; 
those  of  Imitation  and  Truth  involve  the  discussion 
of  the  Mimetic  Instinct  and  the  Representation  of 
Nature.  They  must  be  noticed  in  a  slight  pre- 
liminary way,  in  order  to  define  the  limits  of  Art, 
before  we  can  definitely  plan  out  our  subject. 

17.  Machinery  and  Art. — We  have  seen  that 
manufacture  is  not  Art ;  but  we  are  accustomed 
to  meet  with  all  manner  of  goods  professing  to  be 
artistic,  yet  produced  by  machinery, — the  extreme 
form  of  manufacture,  made  not  only  without 
head-work,  but  without  hand -work,  as  far  as 
possible.  No  doubt  head-work  and  hand -work 
went  to  the  making  of  the  machines  in  the  first 
instance ;  but  that  hardly  affects  the  statement 
that  the  patterned  products  of  a  steam -loom  are 
quite  distinct  from  the  products  of  a  hand-loom, 
as  these  last  are  from  pure  artistic  embroidery. 
If  hand-manufacture  be  not  Art,  still  less  is  steam- 
manufacture,  though  its  results  are  often  so  inter- 
esting, and  display  so  much  ingenuity,  that  the 
public  is  content  with  the  sham,  and  many  critics 


46  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

hardly  venture  to  incur  the  ridicule  of  the  thought- 
less and  the  enmity  of  the  trade  by  upholding  a 
logical  discrimination. 

Mr.  Ruskin  was  led  to  his  position  by  considering 
the  effect  of  machinery  upon  the  life  of  the  work- 
man {S.  F'.,vol.  ii.chap.vi.)  He  found  that  where  the 
minor  arts  and  crafts  are  treated  in  a  purely  artistic 
spirit,  they  react  in  a  wholesome  manner  on  the 
producers,  who  become  of  necessity  more  intelli- 
gent, more  interested  in  their  work,  and  conse- 
quently happier.  Where  machinery  is  introduced, 
the  human  capacities  of  the  workman  are  minimised : 
the  qualities  of  head  and  heart  are  not  wanted, 
and  even  skill  of  hand  is  reduced  to  its  lowest 
terms. 

Not  only  that,  but  the  work  itself  loses  its 
interest  and  higher  qualities  of  beauty  ;  what  it 
gains  in  superficial  neatness  it  loses  in  refinement ; 
it  is  vulgarised,  because  there  is  no  imagination  put 
into  it.  Consequently  all  the  products  of  machinery 
tend  to  become  Sham  Art,  in  proportion  to  the 
part  which  machinery  plays  in  their  production. 
Real  Art  does  not  depend  upon  materials  and  tools ; 
a  great  artist  could  make  great  works  with  the 
very  simplest, — such  as  a  bottle  of  ink  and  a  deal 
board,  painting  with  his  finger ;  for  "  the  imagina- 
tion amends  them."  Even  the  reproduction  by 
mechanical  processes  of  paintings  and  drawings 
loses  many  of  their  qualities, — and  this  is  the  case 
even  with  the  most  marvellous  of  recent  inventions, 
as  any  one  can  see  who  has  the  opportunity  of 
comparing  original  drawings  with  what  are  pub- 
lished as  facsimiles.      Still  more  is  it  true  of  the 


II  The  Nature  of  Art  47 

great  mass  of  decorative  work,  cheaply  produced 
by  machinery. 

It  is  not  to  be  thought  for  a  moment  that  Mr. 
Ruskin  would  refuse  the  advantages  to  utility 
which  are  gained  by  machine  power.  His  posi- 
tion is  quite  simple.  As  long  as  useful  articles 
can  be  made  plentiful,  without  involving  the 
slavery  and  degradation  of  the  workman,  he  en- 
courages manufacture  ;  but  when  it  is  supposed 
that  Art  can  thus  be  cheapened,  he  points  out 
that  there  is  an  impassable  gulf  between  utilitarian 
manufacture  and  Real  Art ;  and  the  cheapening 
of  a  hybrid  between  the  two  serves  only  to  blind 
the  public  to  the  real  uses  and  true  standards  of 
Art  (Z.  A.,  §  10). 

1 8.  Photography  and  Art. — The  Ideas  of  Imita- 
tion and  Truth,  which  it  is  the  business  of  Art  to 
give,  might  be  thought  to  be  attained  by  photo- 
graphy ;  and  in  some  sense  photography  claims  its 
place  on  the  borderland  of  Art  (§  61).  But  there 
are  two  reasons  why  photography  fails  to  take  a 
place  alongside  of  painting  and  sculpture.  First,  that 
it  gives  no  really  accurate  representation  of  Nature  : 
the  lowering  of  tone  makes  it  impossible  to  get 
the  effect  of  a  landscape  ;  and  the  falsification  of 
values,  even  with  the  most  ingenious  appliances  to 
evade  it,  leads  to  falsification  of  landscape  detail. 
Artists  who  work  from  photographs  know  how 
much  allowance  has  to  be  made  for  these  disturb- 
ances ;  they  know  that  the  perspective  of  an 
interior  or  a  figure,  the  modelling  of  certain  masses 
of  drapery  or  rock-form,  and  many  other  parts  of 
the   picture,   are  not    to  be  strictly   copied   from 


48  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

photographs.  So  that  mere  truth,  which  is  the  boast 
of  photography,  is  not  fully  attained  ;  though 
perhaps,  with  improvements  in  management  and 
appliances,  truth  may  eventually  be  secured  in 
other  subjects,  as  it  is  already  in  the  wonderful 
instantaneous  photography  of  facial  expression. 

But  even  if  that  were  done,  Art  is,  by  its  very 
nature,  the  expression  of  human  feeling,  the  repre- 
sentation of  external  things  as  seen  through  a 
human  eye  and  imaged  in  a  human  mind.  The 
interest  in  Art  is  quite  different  from  the  interest 
in  Nature.  In  Art  we  look  for  the  record  of 
man's  thought  and  power,  but  photography  gives 
that  only  in  a  quite  secondary  degree ;  every 
touch  of  a  great  picture  is  instinct  with  feeling, 
but  however  carefully  the  objects  of  his  picture  be 
chosen  and  grouped  by  the  photographer,  there 
his  interference  ends.  It  is  not  a  mere  matter  of 
colour  or  no  colour,  but  of  Invention  and  Design, 
of  Feeling  and  Imagination,  the  very  qualities 
which  make  Art  interesting  and  great.  Photo- 
graphy is  a  matter  of  ingenuity  ;  Art  of  genius. 
And  if  it  be  said  that  Nature  is  more  beautiful 
than  Art,  which  is  true,  Mr.  Ruskin  replies  that 
a  photograph  is  not  Nature ;  and  that  nobody 
who  really  sees  and  loves  natural  beauty  pretends 
that  it  is  adequately  replaced  by  a  photograph 
(Z.  ^.,  §  172). 

Photography  is,  however,  extremely  valuable 
as  a  record  of  certain  facts,  and  as  a  help  to  the  re- 
production of  designs  {L.  A.,  §  10) ;  but  we  must 
not  confuse  its  service  with  that  of  Art,  As  in 
the  case   of  manufacture,  it  is  a  separate   thing. 


n  The  Nature  of  Art  49 

Fine  Art  is  not  science,  it  is  not  manufacture,  it 
is  not  photography.  It  is — I  do  not  attempt  a 
philosophical  definition,  but  to  mark  it  off  from 
these  it  may  be  called  the  thoughtful  and  purpose- 
ful expression  of  human  emotion. 

19.  Programme  of  the  Subject. — At  the  outset 
of  an  inquiry  into  the  nature  of  Art  it  is  hardly 
possible  to  prove  every  statement  and  follow  it 
out  in  detail.  Much  of  what  has  been  here  noted 
down  will  be  treated  again  more  fully ;  though 
the  limits  of  any  handbook,  and  the  intention  of 
this  one  in  particular,  preclude  a  full  development 
of  special  arguments.  But  we  have  now  got  Mr. 
Ruskin's  view  of  what  he  means  by  Art,  and  what 
he  separates  from  his  conception  of  it.  We  have 
next  to  examine  the  End  of  Art,  its  purpose  or 
aim  :  and  then  to  find  its  Uses,  for  we  have  seen 
that  though  its  business  is  not  primarily  utilitarian, 
it  has  an  influence  on  human  life.  Then  we  shall 
be  at  liberty  to  proceed  to  the  different  sorts 
and  conditions  of  Art,  remembering  that  Mr. 
Ruskin  has  not  especially  treated  Music  and  Litera- 
ture and  Acting  and  several  other  of  the  Fine  Arts, 
though  many  remarks  upon  them  can  be  gleaned 
from  his  writings  :  but  he  has  devoted  himself  to 
plastic  and  graphic  Art — what  he  calls  Formative 
Art.  I  think  no  apology  needed  for  confining 
ourselves  to  those  questions  which  he  has  answered 
at  length  ;  and  I  feel  that  it  would  be  forcing 
his  doctrines  if  in  a  work  of  this  sort  we  at- 
tempted to  apply  them  to  departments  of  the  sub- 
ject for  which  they  were  not  intended.  Finally, 
we  shall  notice  his  advice  as  to  the  more  practical 

E 


50  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

side  of  the  question  ;  though  it  involves  theory 
and  general  considerations,  just  as  the  theoretic 
examination  of  the  End  and  Use  of  Art  involves 
practical  application. 

And  so,  without  misleading  sub-titles  of  divi- 
sion, the  reader  may  be  asked  to  note  that  the 
earlier  parts  of  the  book  are  mainly  theoretical, 
and  the  later  part  mainly  practical.  Beginning 
with  the  Purpose  of  Art,  we  shall  discuss  Ruskin's 
teaching  on  its  relation  to  Truth,  Beauty,  and 
Imagination  in  the  first  part.  The  second  part 
will  treat  of  the  Uses  of  Art  in  its  relation  to 
Religion  and  Morality,  Sociology  and  Political 
Economy.  The  third  part,  dealing  with  the  con- 
crete products  of  Art,  will  divide  them  into  their 
departments,  and  examine  the  virtues  of  each, 
concluding  with  Mr.  Ruskin's  doctrines  on  matters 
of  technical  practice  and  study  and  criticism. 

The  review  of  history,  the  detailed  criticism  of 
schools,  the  description  of  special  works  of  Art, 
and  the  characterisation  of  artists,  hardly  seem  to 
form  part  of  Mr.  Ruskin's  Art-Teaching  ;  they  are 
rather  subjects  of  Art-Criticism.  And  indeed  to 
do  justice  to  his  exposition  of  the  example  and 
precept  of  Greek  Art ;  the  virtues  and  vices  of 
Gothic  ;  the  secret  and  interest  of  the  primitive 
masters,  one  by  one  ;  the  glories  of  Venice  ;  the 
mysteries  of  Durer  and  Holbein  ;  the  magic  of 
Reynolds  and  his  cycle ;  the  aims  and  achieve- 
ments of  Turner  ;  and  to  relate  in  sufficient  fulness 
all  his  hopes  and  fears  for  modern  painting,  from 
the  Prc-Raphaelites  to  Miss  Kate  Greenaway  ;  all 
his  plans  and  proposals  for  modern  architecture, 


II  The  Nature  of  Art  51 

from  the  Oxford  Museum  to  that  of  St.  George's 
Guild  ; — to  do  all  this  is  so  utterly  beyond  the 
scope  of  a  book  on  his  Art-Teaching  that  the  least 
said  about  it  will  be  soonest  mended. 

So  I  have  to  set  down  his  doctrines,  not  his 
criticisms  ;  his  teaching,  not  his  examples ;  and 
I  mention  the  omission  simply  that  the  reader 
may  know  it  for  intentional.  I  do  not  think  it 
enough  to  quote  his  words,  either  in  affairs  of 
criticism  or  of  teaching.  Much  false  impression 
may  be  given  by  exact  quotations ;  and  the 
appearance  of  authenticity  only  strengthens  the 
falsehood.  If  you  want  his  words,  read  his  books  : 
for  that  is  the  end  to  which  I  desire  to  lead.  It 
is  useless  to  compile  an  Art-Philosophy  for  the 
sake  of  summing  up  its  results  ;  that  is  like  taking 
a  walk  for  the  sake  of  getting  home.  Unless  you 
get  the  exercise  of  every  step,  the  benefit  of  every 
breath  of  fresh  air,  unless  you  bring  back  the 
recollection  of  things  seen  by  the  wayside,  and 
glimpses  perhaps  of  worlds  less  realised  in  the  far 
distance,  you  might  as  well  have  sat  in  the  door- 
way all  the  afternoon.  No  doubt  it  is  from  some 
feeling  of  this  sort  that  Mr.  Ruskin  prefers  to  dole 
out  his  teaching  in  letters  and  lectures  ;  and  never 
seems  to  come  to  any  general  conclusions,  or  to 
advance  any  formulated  system.  But  as  we  have 
seen,  and  shall  see,  he  has  travelled  over  the 
whole  of  the  ground  ;  and  I  have  tried  to  survey 
it  and  map  it  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  follow 
him  in  his  walks  abroad.  It  is  a  poor  substitute 
for  a  tour  in  Switzerland  to  pore  over  the  maps  in 
the  guide-book  ;  and  yet,  before  setting  out,  it  is 


52  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin        chap,  n 

well  to  know  the  He  of  the  land  ;  and  after  the 
excitements  of  the  trip  are  over  even  the  guide- 
book may  be  pleasant,  and  sometimes  instructive, 
reading. 

The  first  question  we  have  to  approach  is, 
"What  is  Mr.  Ruskin's  idea  of  Truth!" — that 
familiar  watchword  of  his  teaching  and  his  school. 
To  get  at  a  complete  answer — and  this  is  so 
important  a  subject  that  it  demands  a  complete 
answer — we  must  follow  the  development  of  his 
thought  out  of  the  pre-existing  chaos  of  opinion, 
the  conflict  between  imitative  Realism  and  general- 
ising Idealism. 


CHAPTER    III 

IMITATION 

20.  The  Purpose  of  Art. — It  is  a  very  old  and 
widely -spread  belief  that  the  End  of  Art,  its 
business  and  aim,  is  to  imitate  Nature — that  it  is 
mimetic  ;  either  taking  this  for  its  chief  aim,  or  its 
only  one.  And  it  has  been  commonly  supposed 
that  the  more  closely  and  deceptively  the  imitation 
is  carried  out,  the  better  is  the  Art ;  and  that 
nothing  more  is  required  if  this  can  be  got  All 
the  ancient  and  standard  authors,  from  Aristotle 
to  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  seem  to  support  this 
opinion.  Aristotle  {De  Poet,  ii.)  thought  that 
painting  and  the  drama  were  alike  mimetic,  and 
that  higher  or  lower  style  depended  upon  the 
models  chosen  for  imitation.  Leonardo  remarks 
(chap,  cccl.)  that  if  you  follow  his  rules  your  picture 
will  be  like  Nature  itself,  seen  in  a  large  looking- 
glass.  Such  were  the  theories  which  were  in 
vogue  at  the  time  of  the  great  artists  of  Greece 
and  of  Renaissance  Italy.  But  even  in  the  age 
of  Giotto,  when  the  resources  of  Art  did  not  allow 
of  anything  nearly  approaching  deceptive  imita- 
tion, the  same  belief  was  held.     Dante  {Purgatorio, 


54  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

canto  xii.),  in  describing  the  perfect  pictures 
inlaid  on  the  terrace  of  the  purgatorial  mount, 
makes  it  quite  plain  that  the  reason  he  thought 
them  perfect  was  their  imitative  resemblance  to 
living  nature ;  and  he  devotes  nearly  half  a 
canto  to  their  praise,  emphatically  on  that 
understanding. 

But  when  the  method  of  painting  had  been 
so  developed  and  perfected  that  imitative  resem- 
blance was  actually  achieved,  it  was  found  that 
something  more  was  wanting.  The  Dutch  carried 
realism  to  a  high  pitch,  and  "  painted  a  cat  or  a 
fiddle,"  as  Reynolds  said,  "  so  that  you  could  take 
it  up,"  and  yet  remained  confessedly  vulgar — in 
the  lower  walks  of  Art.  It  was  thus  proved  that 
the  earlier  notion  was  a  mistake, — if  it  had  really 
been  held  by  these  thinkers  of  the  Greeks,  the 
Mediaevals  and  the  early  Renaissance, — that  the 
only  aim  of  Art  was  imitation.  But  it  is  extremely 
unlikely  that  Aristotle  and  Dante  and  Leonardo 
would  have  assented  to  the  proposition  in  that 
form  ;  they  would  maintain,  however,  that  a  close 
correspondence  with  Nature  is  the  first  and  most 
important  purpose  of  Art.  Their  less  discerning 
followers,  uneducated  connoisseurs,  and  the  public 
generally,  misunderstood  and  overstated  the  doc- 
trine— naturally  enough,  for  it  is  felt  by  inartistic 
people  that  any  deceptive  imitation  is  wonderful 
and  delightful.  But  the  reductio  ad  absurdum  of  the 
doctrine  in  the  vulgar  realism  of  post- Renaissance 
Schools  produced  a  reaction  in  thought — a  reaction 
which  began  with  Academicism,  and  found  its 
most  able  English  exponent  in  Reynolds. 


Ill  Imitation  5  5 

The  Grand  Style,  as  he  explained  it  (§  14), 
was  supposed  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  Truth, 
but  to  exhibit  Beauty  ;  it  did  not  deal  in  resem- 
blance to  Nature,  but  in  exposition  of  Ideals. 
Thus  in  Ruskin's  early  days  there  were  two  com- 
peting theories  of  the  Purpose  or  End  of  Art — one 
that  it  was  Truth,  or  what  they  supposed  to  be 
Truth,  namely.  Deceptive  Imitation  ;  and  the 
other  that  it  was  Beauty,  or  what  was  supposed 
to  be  Beauty,  namely,  the  Academic  Ideal.  As 
we  shall  see,  Ruskin  was  gradually  enabled  to 
correct  both  these  theories,  and  to  unite  them  into 
one  philosophical  doctrine  ;  though  the  main  body 
of  the  public,  brought  up  in  one  or  other  school, 
and  powerless  to  shake  off  the  one-sided  ideas  of 
popular  reasoning,  is  apt  to  mistake  his  insight 
for  inadequacy,  and  his  reconciliation  for  self- 
contradiction. 

At  first,  having  to  defend  Turner  from  the 
Realist  School,  and  having  been  brought  up 
under  the  influence  of  Reynolds,  without  however 
accepting  the  Academic  belief  in  its  entirety,  he 
argued  against  the  theory  of  Imitation  {M.  P.,  vol. 
i.)  Later  on  his  sympathy  with  Pre-Raphaelitism 
drew  his  attention  to  the  possibilities  of  refined 
Realism,  till  then  unknown,  and  to  the  insuffi- 
ciency of  Academic  Idealism  ;  and  he  argued  on 
behalf  of  the  attempt  to  imitate  {M.  P.,  vol,  iii.) 
But  in  both  periods  he  kept  within  the  limits  of 
just  criticism,  and  emerged  from  analysis  into  the 
construction  and  statement  of  a  wider  and  sounder 
doctrine  in  his  Oxford  Lectures. 

21.  Deceptive  Imitation. — Against  the  common 


56  Art-  Teach ing  of  Ruskin  chap. 

vulgar  Realism  which  delights  in  deception  he  urged 
a  series  of  arguments  {M.  P.,  vol.  i.  pt.  ii.  sec.  i)  : — 

It  is  possible  only  with  trivial  subjects ;  you 
can  imitate  fruit,  not  a  tree.  The  Dantesque 
ideal  of  imitative  art  is  wholly  beyond  human 
power. 

It  is  easy,  and  does  not  involve  the  real  diffi- 
culties of  Art.  The  realistic  representation  of 
more  extended  subjects  is  extremely  difficult,  but 
in  this  there  is  no  attempt  at  deception  {M.  P., 
vol.  iii.,  additional  note  i). 

It  represents  crass  matter  only,  and  Art  can, 
and  therefore  should,  record  qualities,  emotions, 
thoughts. 

It  addresses  the  senses,  the  perceptive  faculty; 
and  says  nothing  to  the  intellect,  the  conceptive 
faculty. 

It  gives  rough,  inaccurate,  and  general  resem- 
blances, sufficient  only  for  the  least -informed 
observer. 

It  is  limited  in  range  ;  and  if  we  were  to  paint 
nothing  but  what  could  be  illusively  imitated.  Art 
would  be  confined  to  still-life  and  the  simplest 
treatment  of  the  figure. 

It  easily  falls  under  empirical  rules,  and  be- 
comes a  merely  mechanical  operation. 

It  addresses  the  lower  orders  of  humanity,  and 
rests  content  with  the  applause  of  those  least 
qualified,  by  training  of  perception  and  cultivation 
of  intellect,  to  judge. 

It  gives  the  least  valuable  characteristics,  when- 
ever it  approaches  a  subject  in  which — as  in  a 
portrait — there  is  a  choice  between  an  average  of 


Ill  Imitation  57 

less  exalted  moments  and  an  ideal  of  rarely-seen 
energy  or  beauty. 

To  all  this  may  be  added  that  Art  has  not  at 
its  command  Nature's  full  power  of  light  and  dark, 
so  that,  except  in  the  poorest  effects,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  match  the  real  tones  ;  that  Art  cannot 
give  the  stereoscopic  effect  of  binocular  vision,  and 
it  is  absurd  to  paint  half  the  picture  as  a  blur — 
for  it  does  not  look  so  in  Nature — to  symbolise 
the  phenomena  of  focus  ;  that  part  of  the  effect  of 
Nature  consists  in  quantity  of  detail  which  Art 
can  only  suggest ;  and  that  movement — necessary 
to  the  effect  of  a  passing  smile,  a  breeze,  and  so 
on — can  be  represented  only  under  certain  con- 
ventional limitations.  And  perhaps  it  might  be 
worth  remembering  that  the  story  of  Zeuxis  and 
Parrhasius  records  merely  one  of  those  tournaments 
in  which  artists  are  fond  of  engaging — not  the 
deliberate  statement  of  the  End  of  Art  as  held  by 
artists  and  critics  of  the  time.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  the  testimony  of  animals  to  imitative  painting 
is  worth  very  little  ;  an  extremely  poor  daub  of  a 
portrait  will  deceive  a  cat  or  a  parrot ;  there  are 
stories  of  dogs  being  "  taken  in  "  with  the  shadow 
of  the  hands  making  a  "  rabbit  on  the  wall  "  ;  and 
the  clumsiest  mimicry  of  the  human  form  divine 
will  scare  crows.  In  proportion  to  the  knowledge 
and  observation  of  the  spectator  deceptive  imita- 
tion becomes  difficult  or  impossible ;  and  it  is 
absurd  to  make  that  the  aim  of  Art  which  postu- 
lates stupidity  in  the  beholder. 

22.  The  Mimetic  Instinct. — Before  proceed- 
ing to  the  gradual  development  of  Mr.  Ruskin's 


58  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

doctrine  as  it  unfolded  itself  in  time,  it  will  be 
interesting  to  compare  the  final  form  it  took.  In 
the  Lectures  on  Greek  Sculpture  (1870)  he  traces 
the  beginning  of  plastic  art  to  "  the  instincts  of 
Mimicry,  Idolatry,  and  Discipline"  {A.  P.,  §  43)  ; 
that  is,  the  natural  desire  to  make  resemblances 
of  things,  to  love  and  play  with  them  or  worship 
them,  and  to  bring  out,  in  doing  so,  the  sense  of 
law  and  order  which  is  the  foundation  of  our 
ideas  of  beauty  and  artistic  composition.  The 
two  later  instincts  correspond  with  the  "  Imagina- 
tion and  Beauty "  of  his  earlier  writings ;  the 
"  mimetic  instinct "  is  the  "  Truth "  of  Modern 
Painters. 

It  begins  in  history  with  the  bone-carvings  of 
the  cave-dwellers  in  Neolithic  time  ;  and  in  the 
individual  with  the  child's  first  attempts  to  draw, 
and  earlier  idealisation  of  any  rolled  rag  into  a 
doll.  It  is  simply  one  of  the  needs  of  human  life  ; 
and  all  Art  is  a  sort  of  doll-play,  which  may  one 
day  be  superseded,  as  doll-play  is,  by  love  of  kind 
and  intelligent  care  and  culture  of  fellow-beings. 
Meanwhile  Re-presentation  is  the  aim  of  Art — the 
turning  of  clay  into  creature,  of  form  into  fancy, 
of  letter  into  spirit,  begetting  and  bearing  new 
beings  in  the  likeness  of  the  old  :  what  can  we  say 
more  than  doll -play,  mock -parentage,  rendering 
inanimate  matter  or  alien  form  into  the  likeness 
of  things  we  love  ?  And  so  the  ancients  were 
right ;  but  the  misstatement  of  their  doctrine  was 
wrong ;  and  all  that  was  urged  against  vulgar 
deceptive  imitation  as  practised  by  inferior  realists 
will  hold  good.     That  kind  of  imitation  is  easy 


Ill  Imitation  59 

to  do,  futile  when  done ;  but  representation  is 
not,  therefore,  to  be  condemned  and  replaced  by 
Academic  idealisation. 

23.  Representation. — "All  second-rate  artists 
will  tell  you  that  the  object  of  Fine  Art  is  not 
resemblance,  but  some  kind  of  abstraction  more 
refined  than  reality.  Put  that  out  of  your  heads 
at  once.  The  object  of  the  great  Resemblant 
Arts  is,  and  always  has  been,  to  resemble  ;  and 
to  resemble  as  closely  as  possible.  It  is  the 
function  of  a  good  portrait  to  set  the  man  before 
you  in  habit  as  he  lived,  and  I  would  we  had  a 
few  more  that  did  so.  It  is  the  function  of  a  good 
landscape  to  set  the  scene  before  you  in  its  reality  ; 
to  make  you,  if  it  may  be,  think  the  clouds  are 
flying  and  the  streams  foaming.  It  is  the  function 
of  the  best  sculptor — the  true  Daedalus — to  make 
stillness  look  like  breathing,  and  marble  look  like 
flesh"  {A.  P.,  §  122).  And  then  Ruskin  goes  on 
to  tell  the  story  of  his  juvenile  drawing  of  Como, 
"  composed "  and  abstracted,  with  the  impossible 
boat  and  the  ill-represented  water.  This  drawing 
was  done  before  he  went  to  Oxford,  probably  in 
1835  ;  that  is  to  say,  seven  years  before  writing 
the  first  volume  of  Modern  Painters.  He  had  not 
reached  the  attitude  of  mind  in  which  he  attacked 
vulgar  imitation  on  behalf  of  Turner  ;  so  that  this 
bit  of  self-criticism  must  not  be  considered  to 
touch  our  last  section  but  one — it  touches  only 
his  childish  ideals. 

You  feel  this  on  proceeding  to  §  125,  in  Aratra 
Pentelici ;  for  there  he  states  that  the  resemblance 
must  be  acceptable  "  to  people  who   know  what 


6o  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

Nature  is  like.  You  see  this  is  at  once  a  great 
restriction,  as  well  as  a  great  exaltation  of  our 
aim."  In  other  words,  the  "  deceptive  resemblance  " 
of  the  Oxford  Lectures  has  nothing  in  common 
with  the  "  deceptive  imitation  "  of  Modern  Painters^ 
and  the  criticism  of  the  one  is  not  annulled  by 
the  advocacy  of  the  other.  Deception  in  true 
Art  is  an  illusion  of  the  imagination  ;  in  false 
Art  of  the  senses.  Turner's  "  Falls  of  Terni "  is 
so  skilfully  done  that,  "  in  a  good  light,  you  may 
all  but  believe  the  foam  and  the  sunshine  are 
drifting  and  changing  among  the  rocks "  {A.  /*., 
§  126) ;  and  yet  there  is  no  illusion  of  the  senses 
as  you  hold  the  tiny  drawing  in  your  hand,  with 
its  white  mount  and  oak  frame ;  it  is  quite  another 
sort  of  deception  from  that  of  the  frieze  at  the 
Capitol  of  Washington  (I  am  told),  where  you 
cannot  see  whether  the  work  is  painting  or 
sculpture — because  you  cannot  climb  near  to  see; 
or  the  coarse  realism  of  a  panorama ;  or  the 
embossed  flies  and  halfpence  on  a  Christmcis 
card. 

And,  then,  when  you  are  told  that  Art,  to  be 
great,  must  represent  honourable  things  and  true 
emotions  {A.  P.,  §§  134,  135),  the  gulf  between 
artistic  representation  and  vulgar  imitation  widens, 
for  the  latter,  as  we  saw,  can  only  undertake  low 
subjects,  and  encourages  coarseness  of  feeling ; 
while  the  former  is  that  "  appeal  to  the  imagina- 
tion "  of  which  so  much  has  been  written  ;  the 
power  of  consummate  art  to  lift  one  off  his  feet, 
and  transport  him  into  the  land  of  dreams. 

24.  Fact  and  Effect. — How,  then,  is  the  appeal 


HI 


Imitation  6 1 


made  ?  The  appeal  to  the  senses  is  chiefly  got 
by  clever  management  of  strong  chiaroscuro,  by 
fixing  the  picture  with  regard  to  the  light,  and 
carefully  arranging  the  approaches  to  it,  so  that 
its  pictorial  nature  is  not  at  once  discovered. 
If  the  End  of  Art  were  to  be  attained  only  by 
these  extraneous  and  adventitious  circumstances, 
— if  it  were  mere  "effect,"  such  an  end  would  justly 
condemn  the  whole  thing  to  the  limbo  of  vanities. 

The  appeal  to  the  imagination  is  made  by 
supplying  the  mind  with  facts ;  arranging  them  in 
such  order,  and  selecting  them  with  such  foresight 
that  they  shall  tell  upon  the  mind  as  the  real  facts 
do  ;  and  heightening  the  record  by  characteristic 
form  and  harmonious  colour — that  is,  giving  the 
utmost  possible  truth.  Such  facts  are  not  needed 
to  deceive  birds  and  beasts  ;  the  arrangement  of 
them  would  be  lost  on  one  whose  imagination  is 
dormant, — who  expects  only  an  appeal  to  his 
senses  ;  and,  consequently,  the  result  of  artistic  re^ 
presentation  is  often  quite  inadequate  to  satisfy  him. 

There  is,  however,  a  sort  of  Art  which  does 
not  deal  thus  with  Facts  ;  it  is  not  necessarily 
imitative  or  representative,  being  occupied  in  the 
actual  production  of  beautiful  form  and  colour  ; 
and  this  kind  is  Decorative  or  Abstract  Art.  But 
still,  as  we  shall  see,  the  highest  ornament  aims 
at  giving  "  the  utmost  ascertainable  truth  respect- 
ing visible  things  and  moral  feelings ;  and  this 
pursuit  o{  fact  is  the  vital  element  of  the  Art-power 
— that  in  which  alone  it  can  develop  itself  to  its 
utmost.  And  I  will  anticipate  by  an  assertion 
which  you  will  at  present  think  too  bold,  but  which 


62  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  c  ha  p. 

I  am  willing  that  you  should  think  so,  in  order 
that  you  may  well  remember  it — the  highest  thing 
tJiat  Art  can  do  is  to  set  before  you  the  true  image 
of  the  presence  of  a  noble  human  being.  It  has 
never  done  more  titan  this,  and  it  ought  not  to  do 
less"  {L.A.,%  31). 

This  doctrine  is  harmonious  and  consistent 
with  the  teaching  of  Modern  Painters.  In  both 
"fact  is  the  starting-point,"  and  correspondence 
with  Nature  is  the  End  of  Art ;  but  in  both  the 
nature  of  the  fact  and  the  extent  of  the  corre- 
spondence is  shown  to  be  inconsistent  with  vulgar 
illusion  ;  not  because  illusion  is  "  wrong,"  but 
because  real  Art  appeals  to  the  imagination,  and 
can  only  appeal  by  the  imagination  ;  it  appeals  to 
the  intellect,  and  can  only  appeal  by  the  intellect. 
To  do  this  it  must  select  its  material.  If  it 
were  possible  to  give  the  whole  truth  of  Nature, 
and  nothing  but  the  truth,  it  were  well  and 
good  ;  but  that  is  not  possible  :  and  such  Art  as 
Dante  dreamed  about  is  still  a  superhuman  ideal  ; 
— Photography  at  any  rate  does  not  yet  promise 
us  its  possession. 

2  5 .  The  Most  Important  Truths. — The  End  of 
Art  is  therefore  to  produce  something  that  repre- 
sents Nature  ;  in  the  terms  of  Modern  Painters,  to 
tell  Truth.  But  as  it  cannot  tell  all  the  Truths  at 
once,  it  becomes  necessary  to  discover  which  are 
most  valuable  as  worthily  expressing  the  subject. 
"  As  soon  as  the  artist  forgets  his  function  of 
praise  in  that  of  imitation,  his  art  is  lost.  His 
business  is  to  give,  by  any  means,  however  imper- 
fect, the  idea  of  a  beautiful  thing ;  not,  by  any 


Ill  Imitation  63 

means,  however  perfect,  the  realisation  of  an  ugly- 
one  "  {L.  F.,  §  4,  note).  "  This  is  the  main  lesson 
I  have  been  teaching,"  says  Mr.  Ruskin  in  1877, 
"so  far  as  I  have  been  able,  through  my  whole 
life, — only  that  picture  is  noble  which  is  painted 
in  love  of  the  reality.  It  is  a  law  which  embraces 
the  highest  scope  of  Art ;  it  is  one  also  which 
guides  in  security  the  first  steps  of  it.  If  you 
desire  to  draw  that  you  may  represent  something 
you  care  for,  you  will  advance  swiftly  and  safely. 
If  you  desire  to  draw  that  you  may  make  a 
beautiful  drawing  you  will  never  make  one.  And 
this  simplicity  of  purpose  is  farther  useful  in 
closing  all  discussions  of  the  respective  grace  or 
admirableness  of  method.  The  best  painting  is 
that  which  most  completely  represents  what  it 
undertakes  to  represent,  as  the  best  language  is 
that  which  most  clearly  says  what  it  undertakes 
tosay"(Z.  i^.,  §§7,8). 

Now  compare  this  passage  with  the  beginning 
of  Modern  Painters,  part  ii.,  section  i  :  "  The  land- 
scape painter  must  always  have  two  great  and 
distinct  ends  :  the  first,  to  induce  in  the  spectator's 
mind  the  faithful  conception  of  any  natural  objects 
whatsoever ;  the  second,  to  guide  the  spectator's 
mind  to  those  objects  most  worthy  of  its  contem- 
plation, and  to  inform  him  of  the  thoughts  and 
feelings  with  which  these  were  regarded  by  the 
artist  himself."  Here  we  find  the  young  author 
struggling  with  the  difficulty  which  he  resolves  so 
easily  and  fearlessly  after  another  thirty  years  of 
study.  We  see  that  he  takes  the  same  standpoint 
between  objective  and  subjective  art — if  for  once 


64  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

I  may  be  allowed  the  use  of  these  convenient 
terms.  He  refuses  one  of  the  "  distinct  ends," 
that  of  mere  imitation,  and  accepts  the  other, 
which  at  first  confusedly,  but  with  increasing 
clearness,  he  resolves  to  call  Praise.  The  wording 
of  the  early  part  of  Modern  Painters,  leaning  more 
on  the  "  thoughts "  than  the  "  feelings "  of  the 
artist,  is  inadequate,  and  leads  to  a  nominal  con- 
fusion of  Art  with  Science.  But  the  drift  of  idea 
is  distinctly  in  the  direction  of  his  later  doctrine  : 
that  Great  Art  expresses  the  love  or  emotion  or 
admiration  of  the  artist  in  his  choice  of  facts  ; 
"  that  the  truth  of  Nature  is  a  part  of  the  truth  of 
God  "  {M.  P.,  vol.  i.  p.  49) ;  that  the  most  important 
Truths  are  those  which  tell  the  secret  of  Beauty. 

It  was  only  confusedly  that  he  put  out  this 
principle  at  first ;  and  the  attempt  to  combine  it 
with  the  doctrines  of  Reynolds  vitiates  these  early 
chapters  of  Modern  Painters.  That  is  why, 
among  other  reasons,  the  author  for  a  long  time 
declined  to  reprint  his  book  ;  and  why  it  must  be 
read  with  caution  by  the  student,  who  ought  to 
ground  himself  in  the  Oxford  Lectures  and  Laws  of 
Fhole  if  he  wants  to  understand  Mr.  Ruskin's  Art- 
Teaching  in  its  fully-developed  form.  But  though 
there  is  confusion  in  the  early  work  it  is  only 
the  mystery  of  the  dawn  ;  it  is  not  contradiction 
of  later  teaching.  His  "  changes  of  doctrine,"  he 
says  in  a  letter  printed  in  Igdrasil  (vol.  i.  No.  9), 
"  have  been  merely  whether  students  should  draw 
on  gray  paper  or  white,  and  the  like,"  that  is  to 
say,  only  in  the  practical  details  of  work  :  these 
matters   of   principle   are   consistently   developed. 


Ill  Imitation  65 

And  here  we  find  that  from  the  beginning  he  has 
regarded  the  most  important  Truths  as  those  which 
express  the  artist's  admiration  and  love  of  his 
subject.  In  the  next  chapter  we  will  inquire 
farther  into  them. 

26.  Selection. — Meanwhile  you  may  recall  his 
famous  advice  to  students  to  "go  to  Nature, 
rejecting  nothing,  selecting  nothing,  and  scorning 
nothing  "  {M.  P.,  vol.  i.  p.  4 1 7).  That  advice  was 
given  in  1843,  before  the  Pre-Raphaelite  schism; 
in  reaction  from  the  affectation  of  exclusiveness, 
from  the  spurious  taste  which  rejected  all  Nature 
and  Art  that  did  not  square  with  the  stiff  frame- 
work of  rules  and  precepts.  That  advice,  too, 
was  given  to  students,  not  to  artists  ;  not  with 
respect  to  picture-making,  but  to  open  their  eyes 
to  Nature,  and  to  train  their  hands  in  a  fuller  and 
freer  school  than  the  dusty  gallery  of  antiques  ; 
and  it  was  accompanied  by  careful  limitation  of 
"  Nature  "  to  perfectly  free  and  noble  Nature — the 
woodland,  not  the  park  ;  the  mountain  tarn,  not 
the  Round  Pond — to  a  realm  where  there  is  little 
to  eliminate  as  unpaintable.  And  for  study  as 
opposed  to  picture-making,  the  range  of  choice  is 
very  wide — "  Anything  will  do  for  study  "  {Acad. 
Notes).  To  the  beginner  who  wants  to  draw  the 
Etruscan  vase  at  Naples  he  answers  (Z.  F.,  Aph. 
XX.),  quite  in  the  same  spirit — "  In  the  meantime, 
the  housemaid  has  broken  a  kitchen  teacup  ;  let 
me  see  if  you  can  draw  one  of  the  pieces." 

And  farther,  this  is  not  quite  the  same  kind  of 
selection  as  that  which  constitutes  the  appeal  to 
the    imagination — as    that    which    is    guided    by 

F 


66  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

admiration,  sympathy,  and  love.  The  selection  of 
important  Truths  in  a  given  object  is  made  on 
other  grounds  from  selection  of  the  object.  It  is 
possible  to  draw  the  potsherd  in  mere  attempt  to 
give  the  force  of  its  relief  against  the  background, 
appealing  solely  to  the  senses  ;  or,  again,  you  may 
find  its  curves  and  subtle  modelling  grow  upon 
you,  as  something  entirely  admirable  and  worthy 
of  your  powers ;  its  opalescent  colour  and  the 
delicacy  of  its  gradations  may  give  you,  in  their 
small  way,  real  ground  for  admiration.  And  there 
would  be  all  the  difference  between  a  drawing 
made  in  the  spirit  of  pride — disdaining  the  object 
except  as  an  occasion  for  display  of  execution  or 
illusion — and  a  drawing  made  in  the  spirit  of  love, 
finding  the  latent  beauty  of  little  things.  It  is 
not  the  choice  of  object  merely,  but  the  choice  of 
subject — the  imaginative  vision  of  the  facts  about 
the  object  seized  as  paintable — that  is  the  true 
selection  ;  "  what  Art  undertakes  to  represent." 

27.  Idealism  and  Realism. — The  slang  of  con- 
noisseurs classes  together  a  whole  catalogue  of 
painters,  whose  work  has  little  in  common,  as 
"  Idealists  "  ;  and  a  group  of  others  as  "  Realists," 
though  their  temper,  subject,  style,  and  character 
may  be  entirely  dissimilar.  The  Idealists,  people 
think,  are  those  who  paint  what  they  do  not  see  ; 
the  Realists  are  those  who  paint  what  they  do  see. 
This  distinction  is  carried  out  even  in  different 
works  by  the  same  artist,  who  may  make  at  one 
time  a  portrait  in  the  Realistic  style,  and  then  a 
"  fancy  head  "  in  the  Idealistic.  It  seems  a  very 
reasonable  and  comprehensible  distinction  ;  and  it 


Ill  Imitation  67 

is  one  of  the  difficult  points  in  Ruskin's  Art-writing 
that  he  does  not  recognise  the  commonly  accepted 
view.  He  does  not  admit  that  "  Great "  Art  paints 
what  it  does  not  see;  the  mere  fact  of  deliberate 
and  studied  putting-together  of  fictitious  material 
is  regarded  by  him  as  a  sign  of  Sham  Art,  and 
he  claims  that  the  really  imaginative  painters  do 
"  see  "  their  subject,  and  even  in  their  wilder  flights 
are  Realists,  in  striving  to  represent  it  as  fully  as 
possible.  On  the  other  hand,  the  imagination 
enters  into  all  vital  Art  ;  for  the  mere  choice  and 
arrangement  of  the  subject ;  the  selection  of  those 
parts  of  it,  and  truths  about  it,  which  the  artist 
means  to  convey  ;  and  the  expression  of  feeling, 
however  unintentional,  which  is  necessarily  betrayed 
in  every  sincerely  and  powerfully  wrought  work, 
are  all  Ideal  elements  from  which  the  sternest 
Realism  cannot  escape.  So  that  in  the  sort  of 
Art  which  Ruskin  allows  to  be  worth  study,  this 
common  distinction  does,  from  his  point  of  view, 
disappear.  We  have,  therefore,  to  ask  what  notions 
he  attaches  to  the  words  Ideal  and  Real ;  how  far 
Art  can  express  reality — the  inquiry  to  which  we 
now  proceed. 


CHAPTER    IV 

GENERALISATION 

28.  The  Theory  of  Generalisation. — Fifty  years 
ago  all  teachers  of  drawing  told  their  pupils  to 
generalise ;  and  the  doctrine  is  by  no  means 
extinct  even  now.  By  "  generalising  "  they  mean 
the  omission  of  minor  points  of  detail ;  of  the 
evidences  of  too  nice  an  inquiry  into  the  nature 
and  structure  of  things  represented  ;  and  of  in- 
dividual character,  subtly  observed  and  crisply 
rendered,  in  living  beings.  The  reasons  for  this 
precept  are  variously  given  according  to  the  sub- 
school  to  which  the  teacher  belongs  ;  for  it  is  the 
cunning  of  the  theory  that  it  fits  so  many  cases. 
One  will  reply  that  generalisation  gives  breadth, 
and  detail  cuts  the  picture  up.  Another,  that  it 
gives  mystery,  vagueness,  and  sublimity  ;  he  will 
tell  you  how  much  improved  the  landscape  is  by 
twilight ;  for  in  the  dark  all  cats  are  gray.  A 
third  will  uphold  that  generalisation  is  the  source 
of  beauty  ;  for  he  has  some  glimpses  of  a  theory 
that  all  the  little  distinctions  which  mark  one 
person  from  another  are  derogations  from  per- 
fection ;     according     to     him,     differentiation     is 


CHAP,  IV  Generalisation  69 

degradation  ;  and  if  the  oak  and  the  ash  and  the 
bonny  ivy  tree  could  be  traced  back  to  their  com- 
mon ancestor,  we  should  find  a  form  of  vegetation 
far  nobler  than  either.  With  this  view  is  intimately 
connected  the  fourth,  which  is  usually  stated  thus  : 
You  were  asking  just  now  which  are  the  most 
important  truths  :  great  truths  are  more  important 
than  little  ones,  and  the  fact  that  trees  are  green 
in  general  is  more  important  than  the  exact  colour 
of  any  foliage  in  particular. 

Many  other  instances  of  a  similar  nature  can 
be  led  to  prove  that — given  the  impossibility  of 
complete  imitation  of  Nature — generalisation  is 
the  next  best  attainment.  And  it  must  be  allowed 
that,  the  tendency  of  beginners  in  Art  being  to- 
ward hardness,  crudity,  and  laboured  realism,  this 
precept  of  generalisation  is  an  extremely  con- 
venient rule-of-thumb  in  drawing- classes ;  and 
in  a  great  number  of  cases  it  is  a  wholesome 
practical  corrective  to  the  want  of  grasp  which 
is  natural  in  the  earnest  but  timid  beginner.  In 
an  inquiry  like  this,  however,  we  must  not  remain 
satisfied  with  the  convenient ;  we  must  inquire 
on  what  grounds  this  creed  rests. 

29.  The  Platonic  Archetype. — Just  as  the  com- 
monest nursery  maxims  of  morals  and  religion 
can  be  traced  back  to  far  distant  sources  in  philo- 
sophy, so  these  precepts  in  Art  are  historically 
affiliated  to  the  metaphysic  of  a  bygone  age. 
Generalisation  implies  the  contradiction  between 
the  parts  and  the  whole,  individuals  and  genus. 
The  Art  student  considers,  and  no  doubt  in  early 
times  considered,  the  parts  of  his  work  as  natural 


70  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

enemies  of  the  whole,  from  whatever  point  of  view 
regarded  ;  and  the  first  step  out  of  barbarism  in 
history,  and  out  of  childhood  in  life,  is  to  become 
conscious  of  this  antithesis,  and  to  seek  means  for 
resolving  it  To  effect  this  process  in  general 
philosophy  was  the  work  of  Plato,  who  showed 
— as  none  had  shown  before — the  relation  of  the 
Many  to  the  One.  In  a  word,  the  separate 
tumultuous  impressions  of  the  senses  (the  detail) 
are  docketed,  so  to  speak,  and  pigeon-holed  by 
thought  or  general  conceptions,  which  tie  up  in 
bundles  or  classes  such  facts  as  have  some  com- 
mon similar  properties,  to  the  neglect  of  little 
differences,  which  may  be  supposed  not  to  count. 
The  docket  on  each  bundle  (to  follow  out  the 
rough  analogy)  is  an  abstract  of  the  common  terms 
of  all  the  items,  an  abstract  made  by  thought — 
imaginative  therefore — seen  in  the  mind's  eye,  and 
called  by  Plato  the  Idea. 

And  when  he  comes  to  give  a  more  or  less 
parabolic  or  mythic  account  of  the  way  the  world 
was  made  by  Eternal  Wisdom  or  Thought,  in  the 
Timaeus,  he  suggests  that  the  various  classes  of 
things  are  produced  on  the  pattern  of  their  normal 
Idea  ;  and  that  is  the  reason  why  our  minds  are 
able  to  replace  individuals  in  their  classes,  and 
reconstitute  their  generic  or  general  ideas.  It 
seems  obvious  that  on  this  account  of  creation  the 
Ideas,  according  to  which  things  are  made,  are 
perfect ;  and  if  things  are  imperfect  it  must  be 
because  they  do  not  faithfully  bear  the  impress 
of  the  primal  Idea,  which  may  be  likened  to  the 
type  or  die  from  which  coins  are  struck  ;  and  the 


IV 


Generalisation  7 1 


coins,  battered  and  bent  by  daily  wear  and  tear, 
illustrate  the  way  in  which  the  individual  things 
and  beings  of  this  world  fail  of  a  full  resemblance 
to  their  Archetypes,  or  original  Ideas  in  the  other 
world. 

30.  The  Academic  Art- Philosophy. — At  the 
Renaissance,  the  Platonic  Philosophy  (as  it  was 
understood,  and  more  especially  as  given  in  this 
Dialogue  of  the  Timaeus)  was  worked  into  the 
scheme  of  Christian  Theology.  The  notion  that 
the  Creator  formed  the  individual  things  and 
beings  of  this  world  upon  heavenly  patterns, 
seemed  to  tally  with  the  Mosaic  dictum  that  they 
were  very  good  ;  and  with  the  Pauline  doctrine  of 
sin  entering,  and  death  with  sin.  The  Renaissance 
Art-philosophers,  calling  themselves  "  Academic," 
after  the  Academeia  at  Athens,  where  Plato  taught, 
found  in  this  doctrine  of  Archetypes  and  Ideas  an 
interesting  solution  of  the  puzzle  presented  by  the 
action  of  the  Imagination  in  Art.  It  seemed  to 
them  that  the  business  of  Art  was  not  to  imitate 
these  battered  and  broken  ectypes,  or  copies  of  the 
Immortal  ;  but  to  find  and  reconstruct  the  ideal 
form,  both  in  men,  in  animals,  and  things  called 
inanimate.  The  function  of  the  imagination  was 
to  sort  impressions  into  genera  or  classes,  to  select 
their  constant  and  common  properties,  which 
would  then  give  a  result  free  from  all  the  imper- 
fections of  frailty  and  fallacy.  It  was  not  only 
that  these  generic  Ideals  would  be  more  beautiful  ; 
they  would  also  be  more  true,  as  containing  what 
was  eternal  as  opposed  to  the  perpetual  flux  of 
sense  and  show.      Milton,  who  was  the  poet  of  the 


72  Art-  Teach ing  of  Ruskin  chap. 

Renaissance,  puts  this  finely  in  his  Latin  Ode  on 
the  Platonic  Idea — 

"  Cujus  ex  imagine 
Natura  sellers  finxit  humanum  genus, 
^temus,  incorruptus,  aequaevus  polo, 
Unusque  et  universus,  exemplar  Dei — " 

which  Leigh  Hunt  loosely  translates — 

"  Say,  who  was  he,  the  sunless  shade, 
After  whose  pattern  man  was  made ; 
He  first,  the  full  of  ages,  bom 
With  the  old,  pale,  polar  morn. 
Sole,  yet  all ;  first  visible  thought, 
After  which  the  Deity  wrought  ?" 

Michelangelo,  more  than  any  other  man,  was 
supposed  to  have  succeeded  in  attaining  this  Ideal 
in  figure  painting  and  sculpture ;  and  the  Old 
Masters  of  landscape,  in  their  generalisations  of 
Nature,  attempted  a  similar  and  parallel  feat 
The  Grand  Style,  which  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 
admired  and  analysed  in  his  discourses,  was  the 
kind  of  Art  devoted  to  this  purpose  ;  Academies 
were  founded  to  preserve  the  tradition  in  its 
purity,  and  to  teach  the  student  rules  by  which 
this  "  high  Art "  should  be  produced — without  fail 
or  faltering  ;  critics  assumed  the  position  unassail- 
able, and  praised  the  pretentious  Ideals  which 
nobody  would  buy  ;  drawing- masters  picked  up 
the  phraseology,  so  that  the  words  Ideal  and 
Typical,  General  Truth  and  Generic  Beauty,  passed 
into  the  popular  language.  And,  finally,  the 
whole  Academic  theory  was  rehabilitated  by 
Schopenhauer  as  the  cardinal  point  of  idealistic 
pessimism. 


IV  Generalisation  73 

3  I.  The  Revolt  against  Academicism. — Like  so 
many  other  fallacies,  this  system  of  thought  began 
in  truth,  and  claimed  all  along  to  be  an  exposi- 
tion of  truth.  With  the  criticism  of  the  various 
Academic  Schools  outside  the  sphere  of  Art  we 
can  have  nothing  to  do  here.  It  is  enough  to 
note  in  passing  that  Ruskin  often  follows  Plato, 
though  he  does  not  follow  the  Platonists.  But 
his  admiration  of  Plato  is  a  later  graft  upon  his 
thought,  formed  long  after  his  theories  of  Art 
were  fixed  on  their  main  lines. 

The  Academic  School  was  part  of  the  universal 
protest  of  the  Renaissance  against  Mediaevalism. 
In  opposition  to  the  Individualist  Art  of  the 
Gothic  ages,  it  set  up  classical  standards,  or  what 
it  understood  to  be  classical  ;  for  in  the  sixteenth 
century  it  was  chiefly  the  baser  sort  of  classic 
Art  that  was  open  to  examination.  Our  present 
opportunities  have  taught  us  to  see  the  Greeks 
and  Romans  as  more  human,  more  expressional, 
more  pathetic  :  to  the  framers  of  the  theory  of 
generalisation,  classic  Art  meant  completeness  of 
handicraft,  absence  of  expressive  detail,  colourless- 
ness, as  of  a  statue  newly  dug  up,  or  crudity  as  of 
the  cheap  kinds  of  wall  painting  executed  by 
common  workmen  in  a  decadent  period.  After  a 
while  a  reaction  set  in  against  these  standards  : 
it  was  discovered  almost  simultaneously  that  the 
best  Greek  Art  was  not  without  colour,  life,  expres- 
sion, detail,  grotesque,  romance — that  indeed  it 
had  many  points  in  common  with  that  Gothic  Art, 
which  was  in  reality  its  natural  scion,  more  nearly 
related  to  it,  both  in  birth  and  in  character,  than 


74  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

the  imperfect  knowledge  of  Renaissance  scholar- 
ship allowed. 

The  Gothic  Revival  opened  up  new  worlds 
to  the  Art-critic  ;  and  just  about  the  time  when 
Ruskin  began  to  examine  into  the  subject  in  his 
early  youth,  Gothic  architecture  was  being  analysed, 
and  the  early  Italian  Schools  of  painting  were 
attracting  in  some  minds  an  interest  which  had 
until  then  been  limited  to  the  praise  of  the  works 
of  Perugino  ;  so  it  was  that  the  Academic  Theory 
was  shaken  on  its  foundations.  The  "  first  visible 
Thought  after  which  the  Deity  wrought,"  the 
Christian  Ideal  arisen  once  more  into  some  kind 
of  acceptance  after  the  collapse  of  French  scepti- 
cism in  the  Revolution,  was  felt  to  have  been  all 
this  long  while  standing  unnoticed  in  deserted 
Cathedrals,  visible,  not  in  the  empty  mockeries  of 
pseudo-classical  Venuses  and  Apollos,  but  in  the 
choirs  of  angels,  and  in  the  Holy  Mother  and 
Child,  and  the  marred  countenance  of  One  who  had 
so  long  been  nothing  to  them  that  passed  by, 
"  whose  sad  face  on  the  cross  sees  only  this  after 
His  passion  of  a  thousand  years." 

With  all  these  feelings  of  reversion  to  ancient 
beliefs,  to  Truth,  as  it  seemed,  more  intimate  and 
more  lofty  than  any  within  the  reach  of  the  formal- 
isms of  the  Academy,  the  Gothic  Art  took  upon 
itself  a  quite  new  light  in  the  minds  of  Ruskin 
and  his  contemporaries,  who  felt  that  the  Ideal 
Beauty  and  Typical  Truth  of  the  orthodox  Art 
creed  were  shams  compared  with  the  Real  Beauty 
and  vital  Truth  of  these  products  of  the  religion 
which  they  had  so  long  held  to  be  alien  to  Art, 


IV 


Generalisation  7  5 


irreconcilable,  standing  aloof  in  cold   disapproval, 
or  choked  and  drowned  in  its  siren  embrace. 

32.  The  War  of  Physics  and  Metaphysics. — The 
same  process  had  been  going  on  in  the  realm  of 
thought,  though  we  can  but  glance  at  its  results 
as  they  touch  our  subject.  The  Academic  Philo- 
sophy, in  its  later  development  and  more  popular 
phases,  had  degenerated  into  approximate  generali- 
sations. In  the  eighteenth  century,  putting  aside 
the  germs  of  modern  thought,  what  was  commonly 
called  Philosophy — that  is,  the  French  eclair- 
cissement  and  English  imitation  of  it — was  rough 
division  and  classification  of  materials  obtained 
by  somewhat  cursory  observation  ;  and  from  the 
generalised  results  thus  hastily  assumed  thought 
proceeded  to  results  mainly  of  a  negative  kind — 
tending  to  scepticism — by  a  process  of  deduction. 

But  with  the  growth  of  physical  science  a  new 
interest  in  detail  was  aroused  ;  old  classifications 
were  swept  away,  and  instead  of  assuming  that 
Truth  lay  in  any  formulae  which  might  happen 
to  fit  a  few  commonly  known  cases  with  neat 
epigrammatic  expression,  people  set  to  work  to 
collect  facts  with  a  quite  new  reverence  for  par- 
ticular truth, — to  bind  them  slowly  together  into 
little  groups  ;  these  little  groups  into  greater  ;  these 
greater  into  still  more  extensive  classes  ;  until  in 
an  ordered  universe  the  whole  should  be  apparent 
as  a  world  of  connected  and  correlated  phenomena. 

This  was  an  entirely  different  process  from  the 
"  pigeon-holing  "  of  coequal  but  unrelated  genera  ; 
and  the  conscious  development  of  this  new  form 
of  science  has  for  its  most  obvious  landmark  in 


76  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

England  the  publication  of  Mill's  Logic.  Now 
when  we  see  how  closely  the  theory  of  Art  is 
connected  with  other  branches  of  thought,  we 
might  almost  anticipate,  what  was  a  fact,  that  in 
Ruskin's  first  writing  he  abandoned  the  generalisa- 
tion-theory in  Art  just  as  his  age  was  abandoning 
it  in  science,  though  he  tried  to  keep  on  good 
terms  with  Reynolds's  phraseology  ;  and  we  note 
the  fitness  of  things  when  we  find  that  Modern 
Paititers  and  Mill's  Logic  were  published  simul- 
taneously in  1843 — a  mere  coincidence,  though 
significant,  and  implying  no  further  connection  of 
the  two  names. 

33.  Specialisation. — The  new  doctrine  of  both 
books,  as  bearing  on  this  logical  question,  sought 
to  rise  to  true  universals  by  more  thorough  dealing 
with  particulars, — finding  the  universal  law  in 
the  particular  phenomenon ;  a  sounder  formula  than 
the  "  variety  in  unity "  of  the  Associationists, 
or  even  the  "  multeity  in  unity "  of  Coleridge. 
But  while  foreshadowing  this  conception  from  the 
beginning  {M.  P.,  vol.  i.  p.  64,  etc.)  he  could  not 
grasp  it  firmly  until  he  let  go  Reynolds,  and  he 
could  not  be  clear  and  consistent  until  he  had 
given  up  the  attempt  to  prove  Reynolds's  meaning 
right  at  the  expense  of  his  wording. 

He  said  that  it  was  specific  truth,  not  generic^ 
that  constituted  the  Grand  Style  :  the  minor  differ- 
ences that  mark  off  the  individual  from  his  species 
are  better  ignored,  as  being  usually  defects  ;  but 
Idealism  consists  in  preserving  the  differences 
that  mark  species  from  genus.  This  was  an 
attempt  at  a  middle  course  between  generalisation 


IV  Generalisation  jy 

and  individualistic  portraiture,  then  thought  to  be 
incompatible  with  Idealism,  and  only  possible  to 
Dutch  Realism  ;  but  even  this  offended  the  critics 
who  thought — perhaps  not  without  reason — that 
Ruskin  approximated  Art  to  science ;  though 
their  grounds  for  attacking  him  seem  to  have  been 
no  better  than  the  old  fallacy  that,  in  a  picture 
an  oak  should  not  be  known  from  an  ash  except 
by  the  vaguest  indications.  So  that  this  doctrine 
of  specialisation,  though  it  does  not  go  so  far  as 
Ruskin  afterwards  went,  was  a  great  advance  upon 
previous  thought  (compare  T/te  Study  of  Archi- 
tecture, 1865  ;   Old  Road,  §  276). 

34.  Character. — Already,  however,  he  gave 
indications  of  farther  development.  In  treating 
of  portraiture  he  shows  how  the  more  important 
characteristics  of  the  human  countenance  are 
rarely  seen,  and  only  come  out  in  moments  of 
emotion  ;  that  is  to  say,  the  aim  of  portraiture  is 
not  to  eliminate  individuality,  but  to  emphasise 
it ;  and  he  does  not  allow,  like  the  theorists  of 
the  Grand  Style,  that  portrait -painting  is  a 
separate  and  rather  inferior  branch  of  Art,  out- 
side the  fold  of  the  Grand  Style. 

He  seems  to  have  felt  that  this  might  lead  to 
confusion,  and  goes  on  to  explain  (J/.  P.,  vol.  i. 
p.  63)  that  accidental  violations  of  natural  law 
are  not  to  be  recorded  by  Art,  but  that  the  artist 
must  seek  rare  examples  of  its  perfection.  By 
accidental  violations  of  natural  law  he  seems  to 
mean  the  baser  characteristics  of  individuality, 
through  disease  and  so  on  (as  when  Cromwell 
said,  "  Paint  me  with  my  warts  ").     By  the  rare 


78  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

exavtples  of  perfection  he  means  those  moments 
when  the  full  natural  beauty  of  specific  character 
is  in  evidence — as  in  a  sky  at  sunset ;  or  in 
humanity  when,  by  a  combination  of  circum- 
stances, emotions  are  at  their  highest  (for  example, 
in  the  scene,  mythical  or  not,  at  the  coffin  of 
Charles  the  First,  when  Cromwell  was  heard  to 
mutter,  "  Cruel  necessity ").  This  is  an  attempt 
to  bridge  over  the  breach  between  the  old  general- 
isation on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other  the 
modern  scientific  interest  in  the  particular  detail 
of  Nature,  and  the  ethical  interest  in  particular 
dramatic  situation  and  individual  character — all 
of  which  Ruskin  felt  strongly,  but  was  not  able 
to  explain  at  the  time  to  readers  who  could  not 
distinguish  it  from  the  vulgar  Realism  of  the 
inferior  Dutch  School. 

He  concludes  this  first  attempt  at  a  theory  of 
the  relation  of  Art  to  Truth  by  stating  that  the 
most  important  truths  are  those  of  specific  form, 
namely  outline  and  "formal  chiaroscuro,"  as  he  calls 
it  in  his  later  works — meaning  light  and  shade 
as  revealing  the  specialised  structure  of  separate 
objects  ;  and  the  less  important  truths  are  those 
of  tone,  colour,  and  imitative  chiaroscuro — that  is 
to  say,  light  and  shade  as  conducing  to  deceptive 
imitation.  This  early  and  incomplete  theory  has 
unfortunately  been  one  of  the  most  widely-accepted 
of  Ruskin's  teachings,  and  has  blinded  English 
Art  to  a  juster  appreciation  of  "values."  Ruskin's 
wiser  teaching  at  Oxford  has  hitherto  been  power- 
less to  redeem  this  trivial  error  of  his  youth, 
which,  though  an  overstatement,  was  a  wholesome 


IV 


Generalisation  79 


counterstroke  to  the  fallacy  of  generalisation.  In 
Ariadne  Florentina  (App.  6)  he  remarks  that  light 
and  shade  imply  an  understanding  of  things ; 
colour  the  imagination  and  sentiment  of  them. 
In  Laws  of  Fesole  he  insists  upon  accuracy  of 
colour  and  tonality,  as  we  shall  see  later  on,  just 
as  strongly  as  upon  accuracy  of  form,  and  puts 
it  before  the  modelling  of  masses.  But  in  this 
earliest  stage  of  his  thought  on  Art  he  was  led 
to  lean  more  upon  the  intellectual  qualities  of 
painting,  and  tended  to  confuse  it  with  Science,  as 
far  as  the  use  of  words  and  formulae  go.  And 
that  at  the  time  was  natural  in  the  author,  and 
necessary  to  the  public,  who  did  not  appreciate 
any  intellectual  qualities  in  Art  beyond  the  lowest 
forms  of  ingenuity. 


CHAPTER    V 

TRUTH 

35.  The  Three  Stages  of  Knowledge. — After  stating 
his  view  of  Truth  in  Art  as  specialisation,  the 
author  of  Modern  Painters  completes  his  first 
volume  with  a  short  review  of  natural  phenomena, 
showing  how  unsatisfactory  and  inadequate  is  the 
Art  of  the  earlier  landscapists  who  generalise  ; 
and  how  interesting  is  that  of  the  moderns, 
especially  Turner,  who  give  specific  form.  With 
his  knowledge  of  geology  he  goes  to  the  Alps 
and  analyses  the  aspects  of  mountain -structure, 
finding  that  intelligent  delineation  of  the  "  guiding 
lines "  of  cleavage,  bedding,  debris  and  upheaval 
had  never  been  attempted  until  Art  marched 
abreast  of  Science,  not  on  the  same  path,  but 
with  equally  awakened  vision.  The  same  analysis 
is  given  of  sky,  vegetation,  and  so  on  ;  and  the 
book  closes  with  a  sharp  attack  on  the  critics  of 
the  old  school,  who  failed  to  recognise  the  new 
world  opened  out  to  landscape,  and  still  went  on 
measuring  the  purpose  of  Art  with  the  old  two- 
foot  rule  of  Academicism. 

The  critics  were  not  slow  in  replying,  and  in 


CHAP.  V  Truth  8i 

answer,  the  preface  to  the  second  edition  oi  Modern 
Painters  states  more  completely  Ruskin's  position, 
showing  that  he  does  not  underestimate  artistic 
treatment,  while  insisting  upon  accuracy  of  scientific 
observation.  He  shows  that  he  by  no  means 
wishes  Art  to  return  to  "  Denner-like  "  portraiture 
of  surface,  and  illustrates  his  meaning  by  a  refer- 
ence to  three  stages  of  mental  development  {M.  P., 
pref.,  second  ed.,  §§  24-29),  which  is  so  important 
as  bearing  upon  our  subject,  that  it  may  be  dwelt 
upon  with  some  detail  of  exposition.  "  In  many 
arts  and  attainments,  the  first  and  last  stages  of 
progress — the  infancy  and  the  consummation — 
have  many  features  in  common  ;  while  the  inter- 
mediate stages  are  wholly  unlike  either,  and  are 
farthest  from  the  right.  So  it  is  in  many  matters 
of  opinion.  Our  first  and  last  coincide,  though  on 
different  grounds  ;  it  is  the  middle  stage  which  is 
farthest  from  the  truth.  Childhood  often  holds  a 
truth  with  its  feeble  fingers  which  the  grasp  of 
manhood  cannot  retain,  which  it  is  the  pride  of 
utmost  age  to  recover."  He  is  thinking  here 
of  that  development  of  knowledge  at  which  we 
glanced  in  the  last  chapter — beginning  with 
definite  but  disconnected  impressions  of  sense  ; 
going  on  to  attempts  at  generalisation,  more  or 
less  futile  and  fallacious  ;  and  ending  with  a  return 
to  particular  truth  as  the  source  of  the  induction 
by  which  we  arrive  at  notions  of  universal  law. 

36.  Three  Stages  of  Art. — "Perhaps  this  is  in 
no  instance  more  remarkable  than  in  the  opinion 
we  form  upon  the  subject  of  detail  in  works  of 
Art.      Infants  in   judgment,  we   look   for  specific 

G 


82  Art'Teachmg  of  Ruskin  chap, 

character  and  complete  finish  ;  we  deh'ght  in  the 
faithful  plumage  of  the  well-known  bird,  in  the 
finely-drawn  leafage  of  the  discriminated  flower. 
As  we  advance  in  judgment  we  scorn  such  detail 
altogether;  we  look  for  impetuosity  of  execution 
and  breadth  of  effect.  But  perfected  in  judgment, 
we  return  in  a  great  measure  to  our  early  feelings, 
and  thank  Raphael  for  the  shells  upon  his  sacred 
beach,  and  for  the  delicate  stamens  of  the  herbage 
beside  his  inspired  St.  Catharine "  {M.  P.,  pref., 
second  ed.,  §  24).  Here  are  three  stages,  analogous 
to  the  history  of  knowledge  in  the  fact  that  the 
earliest  is  wanting  in  grasp,  the  second  in  content, 
while  the  third  reunites  the  parts  and  the  whole  in 
a  new  power  to  subordinate — not  to  expunge — 
detail.  For  instance,  consider  a  rock.  Untaught 
Realism  sees  all  cracks,  mosses,  and  so  on,  and 
gives  all  indifferently  in  crude  and  hard  detail, 
which  to  us  looks  less  like  a  rock  than  a  heap  of 
cracks  and  tufts.  Then  the  theory  of  generalisa- 
tion steps  in,  and  tries  to  get  the  main  Idea  of 
rockiness — not  asking  what  it  is  that  makes  the 
thing  a  rock,  but  what  makes  it  look  like  a  rock  ; 
and  establishes  a  rule  which  bids  the  rock  seem 
hard,  gray,  angular,  and  so  on  ;  which  results  in  a 
picture  of  something  like  a  rock  in  general,  but 
like  no  rock  in  particular.  Finally,  scientific 
thought  asks,  "  By  what  is  all  rock,  not  most 
rock,  characterised  ? "  and  finds  that  the  one 
thing  needful  is  crystalline  structure,  cleavage. 
And  modern  landscape,  as  exemplified  in  Turner, 
seizes  on  cleavage  as  the  great  characteristic  of 
rock  ;    and   a   great   part  of  Modern  Painters  is 


V  Truth  83 

devoted  to  exhibiting  how  Turner  found  the 
universal  law  of  cleavage  in  the  particular  rocks 
of  Bolton  Abbey  or  the  Pass  of  Faido. 

37.  The  Interest  of  Individualisation.  —  The 
same  principle  holds  good  in  history,  and  for 
every  kind  of  art ;  each  runs  through  three  stages 
— the  singular,  the  general,  and  the  universal ; 
that  is  to  say,  the  stage  of  childish  perceptions  of 
mere  detail,  the  stage  of  youthful  attempts  to 
generalise,  and  the  stage  of  patient,  scientific 
building  up  of  illustrations  of  natural  law  by  the 
help  of  a  completer  knowledge  and  grasp  and 
subordination  of  detail.  The  first  stage  is  interest- 
ing and  sometimes  valuable,  as  recording,  however 
feebly,  important  facts.  Art  always  begins  thus, 
as  seen  in  early  Accadian  seals  and  portrait- 
models,  in  early  Egyptian  wooden  statues,  in  early 
Greek  coins  and  carvings,  in  early  Italian  por- 
traiture and  Realism.  Hence  Ruskin's  interest  in 
the  early  art  of  Greece  and  Italy  ;  after  Marathon 
Greek  art,  for  him,  begins  to  lose  value  ;  Italian 
art,  for  him,  declines  at  the  Renaissance,  and  yet 
his  real  standards  of  the  highest  reach  of  Art  are 
Turner  and  Tintoret,  apparently  irreconcilable 
with  the  archaic  stage.  But  Ruskin's  later  teach- 
ing is  for  students,  who,  if  they  are  to  be  expected 
to  reach  the  natural  development  of  their  powers, 
must  begin  at  the  beginning :  to  bid  them  copy 
Turner  and  Tintoret  is  setting  them  to  work  at 
the  end.  Turner  and  Tintoret  began  at  the  be- 
ginning ;  we  must  all  run  through  the  three  stages 
ourselves,  if  our  work  is  to  be  a  living,  original 
development ;    we    cannot    be    placed    as    babies 


84  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

upon   the   shoulders   of  giants,  and    immediately 
handle  Goliath's  spear.     And  so  the  wisest  method 
for   a   teacher   of  Art-students   is  to  carry  them 
through  the  normal   course  ;  starting  from   close 
observation  of  detail,  like  the  primitive  masters. 
If  they  never  get  beyond   it,  they  will  be  useful 
draughtsmen  and  recorders  of  valuable  fact,  not 
empty,  conceited,  historico-ideal  daubers  of  canvas 
by  the  square  yard.      Should  they  rise  out  of  the 
first  stage  into  the  second,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that 
the  grounding  they  have  got  will  suffice  to  carry 
them  through  ;  for  that  second  stage,  in  historic 
purview,  gives  us  little  of  real  interest.      In  por- 
traiture, what  is  the  use,  or  indeed   the  beauty  of 
a  face,  of  which  the  nose  has  been  lengthened  by 
rule,  and  the  eyes  brightened  quantum  sufficit  ? — 
in   genre,  of  supposed    historic    incident  grouped 
theatrically,  like  Mortimer's  Queen  Katherine  ? — 
in    landscape,    of    Kew    Gardens,    Claudified    by 
Wilson  ? — or   in  mythic   painting,  of  Lawrence's 
Satan  on  the  Stairs  of  the  Diploma  Gallery,  of 
which  old   Fuseli  said,  "  It  is  a  damned  ting  cer- 
tainly, but  not  de  devil  "  ?      With  all  their  technical 
merits  these  fail  to  interest  the  heart ;  they  fail  to 
fix  the  imagination  ;  they  are  empty,  contentless. 
But  the  great  modern   painters,  and  the  supreme 
masters  of  every  school   who   have   reached   the 
third  stage,  how  different   are   the  emotions  and 
interests  they  arouse  !  and  why  ?      Because  they 
seek  in  a  portrait  the  little  characteristics  which 
betray    the    great    ethical    laws    by    which    their 
subject     lives  ;     they     find     in     genre,     whether 
heroic,  historic,  or  domestic,  the  opportunity  for 


V  Truth  85 

expounding  and  illustrating  with  fulness  of  con- 
tributory truth  the  typical  actions  and  passions  of 
humanity  ;  and  they  give,  in  landscape,  a  synopsis 
of  Nature's  universal  laws  exemplified  alike  in  her 
sublimest  and  most  trivial  phenomena. 

38.  Individualisation  in  Poetry. — If  individual- 
isation  be  so  great  a  source  of  interest,  as  opposed 
to  generalisation,  how  is  it  that  we  usually  hear 
Poetry  described  as  great  in  proportion  to  its 
vagueness  ?  powerful,  as  it  does  not  fix  the  imagi- 
nation, but  lets  it  wander?  This  kind  of  criti- 
cism is  of  a  piece  with  the  last-century  theories  of 
Art,  and  the  last-century  view  of  science  ;  it  is  a 
corollary  of  Academicism,  and  flatly  denied  by 
Ruskin.  He  takes  a  well-known — and  at  that 
time  generally  acceptable — passage  of  Byron,  the 
description  of  Chillon,  and  analyses  it  {M.  P.,  vol. 
iii.  p.  8)  to  show  that,  apart  from  the  question  of 
Truth,  it  is  individualisation  of  detail  that  forms 
the  essence  of  interesting  treatment  in  poetry. 
Not  vague,  immutable,  disconnected  generalised 
Ideals,  but  warm,  conceivable,  suggestive  facts  are 
the  content  of  poetry,  even  in  those  poets,  like 
Milton  [M.  /*.,  vol.  ii.  p.  i  5  8),  who  are  the  champions 
of  the  generalisation  theory.  The  sympathies  of 
men  are  aroused  by  something  they  can  grasp, 
rather  than  by  shadowy  notions  which  elude  them  ; 
their  minds  are  ready  to  receive  what  they  recog- 
nise for  truths,  rather  than  what  they  must  refuse 
— at  any  rate  till  a  more  convenient  season — as 
theories ;  and  their  imaginations  are  caught  by 
picturesque  detail,  and  play  about  the  associations 
of  it   in   freedom    and   pleasure,   when   they  care 


86  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

little  to  wander  uncompanioned  into  the  mist 
whither  the  Grand  Style  would  launch  them  with 
discourteous  initial  impulse.  Mr.  Ruskin  shows 
at  length  and  in  various  instances,  that  poetry  of 
acknowledged  value  interests  by  individualisation, 
and  that  the  style  which  refuses  detail  and  con- 
tents itself  with  generalities  is  prose.  Surely  this 
is  seen  in  every  book  or  newspaper  ;  the  leading 
article,  generalising  on  the  situation,  appeals  to 
the  intellect,  or  is  intended  for  that  purpose  ;  the 
reports  of  battle  and  murder  and  sudden  death 
appeal  to  the  imagination  and  touch  the  emotions. 
They  are  not  thereby  poetry,  but  they  contain 
the  material  of  poetry  ;  "  the  Ring  and  the  Book  " 
is  a  police  case  in  verse  ;  and  the  harm  of  sensa- 
tional reports  is  in  their  want  of  sympathetic 
treatment,  in  a  cynical  baldness,  which  appeals  to 
the  lower  emotions  only,  and  does  not,  like  Art, 
mediate  between  the  senses  and  the  intellect. 
Poetry,  on  the  one  hand,  presents  the  universal 
as  concept,  and  "  elevates  the  mind " ;  and  on  the 
other  it  presents  the  particular  as  percept,  and 
"  interests  the  imagination." 

39.  Individualisation  in  Paijiting.  —  We  are 
now  following  Ruskin  in  the  development  of  his 
views  a  step  beyond  the  preface  to  the  second 
edition,  and  leaving  behind  the  standpoint  of  the 
first  volume.  By  1855,  and  indeed  earlier,  but 
openly  and  avowedly  in  the  introductory  chapters 
to  vol.  iii.,  he  parted  company  with  Reynolds  and 
renounced  his  authority.  He  was  not  merely 
speculating  independently  and  idly  ;  he  was  the 
exponent  of  a  movement,  just  as  Reynolds  had 


V  Truth  %"] 

been.  Partly  influenced  by  the  first  volume  of 
Modern  Painters,  the  Pre-Raphaelites  had  revolu- 
tionised Art,  and  carried  out  in  every  department 
the  search  after  Truth  {S.  V.,  vol.  iii.  ch.  iv.  §  26), 
which  Turner  exemplified  in  his  way,  and  Ruskin 
had  pointed  out  as  the  proper  course  of  modern 
painting.  He  had  not  formulated  the  doctrine  of 
individualisation  as  a  quite  ascertained  and  un- 
assailable law  of  art,  but  he  had  broken  down 
the  props  of  the  opposite  creed,  and  brought  a 
great  mass  of  illustrative  evidence  to  bear  on  the 
question.  Now  he  proceeds  to  gather  up  the 
results  of  his  own  thought  and  the  experience  of 
the  new  school,  to  show  that  the  End  of  Art  is 
Particular  Truth,  individualisation  in  and  through 
which  the  universal  is  illustrated.  The  Grandest 
Style  of  all,  he  thinks,  would  be,  if  possible,  a 
perfect  imitation  of  Nature  as  in  a  looking-glass, 
down  to  the  smallest  detail,  reflecting  every  char- 
acteristic of  individual  objects ;  and  this  espe- 
cially when  the  subject  was  noble  (M.  P.,  vol.  iii. 
chap,  ii.)  To  this  idea  he  was  probably  led  by 
the  recent  discovery  of  photography,  and  the 
unbounded  expectations  raised  about  it.  His 
laborious  draughtsmanship  of  the  Venetian  archi- 
tecture was  superseded,  as  he  thought,  or,  going 
to  be  superseded,  by  the  Daguerreotype ;  and 
imitative  art,  such  as  t/iat  would  end  in,  would  be 
no  despicable  or  trivial  affair,  like  the  deceptive 
imitation  he  criticised  twelve  years  before.  Art 
was  now  on  the  way  to  much  higher  reaches, 
which  in  some  measure  it  has  attained  ;  though 
it  is  difficult  to  say  whether  the  evil  influence  of 


88  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskift  chap. 

the  cheap  carte-de-visite  has  not  fully  cancelled 
the  debt  of  Art  to  photography. 

40.  Realistic  Detail. — The  vulgar  degradation 
of  the  Ideal  in  the  Academic  Schools  was  a  foolish, 
empty  nothingness,  fit  only  for  the  babies'  limbo. 
In  the  Naturalistic  Schools,  for  whose  present 
extension  Ruskin  is  largely  responsible,  the  vulgar 
degradation  of  the  principle  has  led  to  many  forms 
of  vicious  and  immoral  Art,  or  what  pretends  to 
be  Art,  presenting  itself  in  the  guise  of  Particular 
Truth,  but  really  appealing  only  to  the  senses,  and 
appealing  to  them  as  an  object  of  desire,  not  of 
artistic  love  of  beauty.  Now  that  individualisation 
is  permissible,  and  the  old  hard-and-fast  rules  have 
lost  their  control  and  sanction,  any  fragment  of 
Nature,  reproduced  in  any  way,  is  liable  to  be 
thrust  into  view  as  a  work  of  Art ;  and  it  becomes 
necessary  to  understand  the  difference  between 
these  purely  sensuous  particulars  and  the  artistic 
unity  of  universal  and  particular  which  alone 
deserves  the  name  of  Art.  They  have  a  super- 
ficial resemblance  in  that  both  are  charged  with 
realistic  detail ;  but  one  presents  it  as  an  object  of 
desire,  in  which  the  senses  rest ;  the  other  presents 
it  as  an  object  of  thought,  from  which  the  imagina- 
tion leads  on  to  still  nobler  sources  of  pleasure. 
The  difference  can  generally  be  known  from  this  : 
that  the  vulgar  and  Sham  Art  tends  to  deceptive 
imagination  of  the  type  criticised  above  (§  22), 
but  that  "  Great "  Art  makes  no  attempt  to  deceive, 
in  spite  of  realistic  detail.  The  passage  to  read  on 
the  question  is  M.  P.,  vol.  iii.  chap,  x.,  "  On  the  use 
of  pictures,"  which,  recurring  to  the  old  question, 


V  Truth  89 

"  What  are  the  most  important  truths  ? "  shows 
that  the  greater  painters  give  those  truths  which 
explain  and  symboHse  and  suggest  the  universal 
laws  of  matter  and  of  mind,  of  external  nature 
and  of  human  imagination,  which  Art  can  and 
ought  to  supply  to  the  spectator  if,  as  we  have 
agreed,  the  function  of  the  artist  is  to  be  that  of 
an  intelligent  guide  and  interpreter  to  the  scenes 
he  shows ;  not  merely  that  of  the  man  at  the 
turnstile,  letting  you  in  to  see  the  waterfall  at 
twopence  a  head.  Like  the  latter  are  those  artists 
(popular  of  course)  who  merely  place  the  spectator 
before  a  window  of  bad  glass,  and  tell  him  only  so 
many  truths  as  will  suffice  to  suggest  a  rough, 
incomplete  concept  of  the  scene.  Like  the  former 
are  those  who  feel  their  duty  is  not  done  without 
choice  of  the  point  of  view  where  tJie  scene  tells 
most  strongly  upon  the  imagination,  nor  without 
giving  all  tJie  information  which  the  intellect 
requires.  Of  course  to  do  this  efficiently  they 
must  be  men  of  great  calibre  ;  but  we  are  discuss- 
ing the  nature  of  Great  Art,  not  devising  rules 
for  the  production  of  commonplace  and  saleable 
pictures.  Men  who  feel  themselves  incapable  of 
painting  as  Turner  painted,  need  not,  in  despair, 
join  the  camp  of  the  enemy  ;  they  can  devote 
themselves,  as  Turner  did  for  years,  to  particular- 
isation  of  the  first  stage,  which  is  not  without  its 
interest  and  use — the  faithful  record  of  great  and 
perishing  architecture,  accurate  copies  of  decaying 
or  ■  not  easily  accessible  painting  and  sculpture, 
transcripts  of  natural  detail,  or  portraits  of  inter- 
esting  scenes.      Ample  fields   are  open    for  this 


90  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap, 

kind  of  work,  as  Mr.  Ruskin  has  shown  in  the 
employment  of  artists  upon  copying  and  painting 
studies  for  his  Sheffield  Museum  ;  and  the  artist 
trained  in  this  work  will  at  any  rate  find  satisfac- 
tion in  his  immediate  results  ;  and  if  he  is  capable 
of  greater  things,  greater  things  will  be  done  by 
him  in  time, 

41.  Idealistic  Detail. — We  have,  then,  "the 
wholesome,  happy,  and  noble — though  not  the 
noblest — Art  of  simple  transcript  from  Nature  ; 
into  which,  so  far  as  our  modern  Pre-Raphaelitism 
falls,  it  will  indeed  do  sacred  service  in  ridding  us 
of  the  old  fallacies  and  componencies,  but  cannot 
itself  rise  above  the  level  of  simple  and  happy  use- 
fulness. So  far  as  it  is  to  be,  it  must  add — and 
so  far  as  it  is  great  has  already  added — the  great 
imaginative  element  to  all  its  faithfulness  in  tran- 
script "  (71/. P., vol.  iii.  chap.x.  p.  1 46).  It  is  possible, 
then,  and  desirable  that  inventive  or  imaginative 
pictures  should  contain  realistic  detail — making 
the  imagined  subject  seem  actual.  But  while  the 
more  actual  it  is  made  the  better  it  might  be 
theoretically,  in  practice  we  cannot  judge  imagina- 
tive work  simply  by  its  realism — as  some  paradox- 
monger  might  deduce  from  a  misunderstanding 
of  the  doctrine.  There  are  many  artists  whose 
subjects  are  habitually  not  scenes  but  thoughts, 
not  real  bodies  but  abstract  conceptions  ;  and  for 
such  it  is  more  important  to  make  their  meaning 
clear  than  to  realise  their  dream.  Such  are  Burne- 
Jones  and  G.  F.  Watts  {A.  E.,  Lect.  ii.),  who  differ 
from  the  Pre-Raphaelites  in  choosing  to  paint  per- 
sonifications of  abstract  ideas — Truth  no  less,  nay, 


V  Truth  91 

even  more,  since  myths  are  quintessence  of  Truth. 
Their  aim  is  to  illustrate  the  inner  meaning  of  great 
myths,  not  to  paint  archaeology,  nor  to  realise 
waning  beliefs  ;  and  in  this  kind  of  painting  the 
most  important  truths  are  those  which  convey,  by 
harmony  of  line  and  colour,  and  dignity  of  ex- 
pressive figure-drawing,  the  serious  and  intimate 
character  of  the  moral  of  the  fable.  Definite 
object-painting  is  not  the  purpose  in  Art  of  this 
kind ;  and  although  there  is  no  reason  for  bad 
drawing  or  slovenly  painting,  still — as  Art  cannot 
give  all  truths  equally,  and  indeed  must  select  a 
smaller  and  still  smaller  number  of  truths  in  pro- 
portion to  their  importance  and  that  significance 
which  would  be  lost  by  the  attempt  to  combine 
incompatible  excellencies — in  this  kind  the  best 
are  but  shadows,  and  the  reasons  for  realisation  of 
particular  detail  are  minimised.  A  certain  strange- 
ness is  suggestive  and  provocative  to  the  imagina- 
tion ;  realisation,  whose  purpose  is  to  compel 
belief,  would  only  force  the  spectator  into 
rebellion.  And  this  is  the  case  more  than  ever 
in  the  illustration  of  myths  which  have  descended 
to  the  level  of  "  marchen,"  or  folk-lore,  and  do  not 
bear  vigorous  analysis  :  the  whole  thing  is  a  form 
of  child's  play — not  to  be  despised,  for  we  do  not 
despise  children,  but  to  be  taken  on  its  own  terms, 
as  in  the  case  of  Ludwig  Richter's  fairy  books, 
where  the  idealistic  detail  is  vague  with  deliberate 
intention,  meaning  to  suggest  odd  and  fanciful 
resemblances,  as  in  a  dream. 

42.  Finish. — The  question,  "  How  far  to  Realise 
or    Finish?"    is    another    form    of   the    question 


92  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

"  What  are  the  most  important  Truths  ?"  It 
waits  for  answer  until  the  intention  of  the  painter 
is  determined  ;  and  no  answer  is  possible  in  the 
form  of  a  generalising  rule.  The  aim  of  Art  is 
not  merely  to  turn  out  a  highly  polished  article, 
nor  always  to  tell  the  same  sort  of  truths  ;  some- 
times the  phenomena  of  Nature  in  their  exemplifi- 
cation of  natural  law,  and  sometimes  abstract 
thoughts  in  all  their  grotesque  or  fanciful  associa- 
tions, and  whatever  may  lie  between  these  purposes, 
not  identical  but  closely  related.  Hence,  Art  must 
not  stop  short  of  giving  all  details  which  may  add  to 
the  information  and  feed  the  imagination  ;  "  Finish 
is  in  completeness  of  the  expression  of  ideas " 
{M.  P.,  vol.  iii.  p.  1 1 8)  ;  it  is  "  telling  more  truth  " 
(p.  128)  ;  "all  true  finish  is  added  fact"  (p.  125). 
When  the  additions  to  the  first  sketch  are  sham 
fact,  or  mere  polishing  and  texture,  the  "  finish  " 
is  sham  finish  :  like  the  dotted  trees  of  Hobbima, 
or  the  scribbled  foregrounds  of  the  inferior  engraver, 
or  the  smooth  surface  of  Carlo  Dolce,  or  the 
apparent  decision  and  care  which  veils  ignorance 
and  blunder  in  Claude's  tree-drawing.  On  the 
other  hand,  absence  of  finish  may  be  right  in  a 
good  sketch  where  the  truth  required  is  expressed 
as  well  as  possible  in  the  time  and  under  the 
circumstances  ;  but  is  wrong  when  the  appearance 
of  sketchiness  is  induced  as  an  excuse  for  want  of 
observation,  fineness  of  perception,  patience  and 
knowledge  on  the  part  of  the  artist  True,  honest 
sketching  is  valuable  when  done  by  an  able  man  ; 
sham  sketches  are  the  condemnation  of  much 
recent  Art.     The  greatest  artists  always  finish,  in 


V  Truth  93 

the  true  sense,  as  far  as  possible  ;  Leonardo  draws 
veins  in  the  agates  in  his  foregrounds,  Titian 
realises  the  snail-shells  and  flowers  in  his  broadest 
work,  without  loss  of  power,  and  with  great  gain 
to  the  interest  of  the  picture  on  prolonged 
examination. 

43.  Completion,  Right  and  Wrong. — How  far 
then  must  Finish  be  carried  ?  When  is  a  work 
complete?  In  a  note  to  M.  P.,  vol.  v.  p.  276,  the 
author  collects  some  of  his  statements  on  Finish 
which  have  appeared  discordant  to  his  critics, 
adding  to  these  above  quoted  the  praise  of  Giotto's 
campanile  for  its  high  finish  {S.  L.  A.,  chap,  iv.), 
and  the  remark  that  the  delightfulness  of  rough 
and  imperfect  work  is  limited  to  developing  and 
unformed  schools  (chap.  v.  p.  15  2).  Then  con- 
trasting the  view  of  Stones  of  Venice  (vol.  ii.  p. 
170)  that  "no  good  work  can  be  perfect,  and  the 
demand  for  perfection  is  a  sign  of  a  misunder- 
standing of  the  Ends  of  Art,"  being  a  symptom  of 
decadence;  but  {lb.  p.  1 6^^  "delicate  finish,  up  to  the 
point  possible,  is  always  desirable  from  the  greatest 
masters,  and  is  always  given  by  them."  Bringing 
these  antinomies  together  he  shows  that  "Absolute 
finish  [complete  truth-telling]  is  always  right ; 
finish,  inconsistent  with  prudence  or  passion,  wrong. 
The  imperative  demand  for  finish  is  ruinous,  because 
it  refuses  better  things  than  finish.  The  stopping 
short  of  the  finish,  which  is  honourably  possible  to 
human  energy,  is  destructive  on  the  other  side, 
and  not  in  less  degree.  Err,  of  the  two,  on  the 
side  of  completion."  In  another  place  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii. 
p.  79)  he  points  out  the  difference  between  indolent 


94  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin         chap,  v 

impatience  of  labour  and  intellectual  impatience 
of  delay  ;  Tintoret  did  not  finish,  because  he  was 
always  anxious  to  have  done  with  one  piece  of 
work  and  express  new  ideas  in  another.  In  the 
latest  period  of  his  teaching  {Laws  of  F^sole)  the 
subject  is  much  cleared  up,  as  far  as  advice  to 
students  can  go,  by  the  insistence  on  accuracy  of 
outline  and  matching  of  toned  colour,  to  the  neg- 
lect of  texture  and  transparency  ;  forbidding  the 
stippling  and  the  slopping  recommended  or  per- 
mitted in  the  Elements  of  Drawing.  But  this 
trenches  on  the  Practice  of  Painting,  as  the  critical 
estimate  of  the  various  periods  of  Art  as  shown 
in  the  amount  of  their  finish  does  on  the  History. 
In  their  relation  to  Truth  as  End  of  Art,  Finish 
and  Completion  mean  the  choice  and  extent — the 
quality  and  quantity — of  additional,  accessory 
Truth  superadded  to  the  first  or  central  facts  laid 
down.  The  quality  of  Truths  chosen,  and  the 
quantity  given,  depend  upon  the  artist's  intention. 


CHAPTER    VI 

SCIENCE   AND    ART 

44.  The  Difference  between  Art  and  Science.—^ 
So  far  as  we  have  hitherto  gone,  we  have  learnt 
that  Art,  viewed  as  a  language,  aims  at  giving 
the  particular  facts  of  Nature,  as  illustrations  of 
universal  laws,  whether  those  under  which  external 
nature  exists,  or  those  which  can  be  traced  in 
the  working  of  the  artist's  mind.  Viewed  as  an 
activity — the  broader  understanding  of  the  nature, 
of  Art  into  which  Mr.  Ruskin  entered  in  his  later 
writings,  the  terms  are  slightly  changed,  but  his 
notion  remains  practically  the  same — Art  is  the 
skilful  expression  of  man's  rational  and  disciplined 
delight  in  the  forms  and  laws  of  the  creation 
(Z.  i^,  chap.  i.  §  i). 

The  second  definition  improves  upon  thq 
earlier  one,  in  hinting  at  a  difference  between  Art 
and  Science.  In  Ruskin's  earlier  days  his  deep 
interest  in  geology,  mineralogy,  botany,  meteor^ 
ology,  and  other  branches  of  physical  sciencej 
upon  all  of  which  he  wrote  and  published  articles 
before  entering  upon  anything  like  criticism  of 
Art,  is  betrayed  by  the  confusion  naturally  create4 


96  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

in  the  minds  of  his  readers  between  the  functions 
of  Art,  as  he  understood  them,  and  those  of 
natural  science.  As  long  as  Art  is  looked  upon 
simply  as  a  language,  this  confusion  may  very 
plausibly  be  introduced  by  readers  who  do  not  cor- 
rect the  actual  words  of  isolated  passages  by  the 
carefully  estimated  drift  of  his  thought  as  a  whole. 

But  the  difference  was  always  clear  to  the 
author,  though  he  could  not  at  first  express  it. 
In  the  days  of  Modern  Painters  his  mind  was 
undergoing  a  strong  reaction  against  Aristotle, 
chiefly  on  account  of  certain  weaknesses  which  he 
felt  to  exist  in  the  ethical  doctrine  of  the  Mean, 
and  it  is  possible  that  this  distrust  prevented  him 
from  accepting  the  Greek  view  of  Art  as  an 
activity,  narrowed  by  Aristotle,  as  we  remarked 
above,  into  "  an  imitative  activity."  Such  a  view 
of  Art  was  entirely  unacceptable  to  one  whose 
business  at  the  time  was  to  combat  the  idea  that 
Art  meant  simply  the  making  of  pictures  as 
articles  of  commerce,  and  that  the  criterion  of 
such  articles  was  their  success  in  deceptive  imi- 
tation. 

It  might  have  been  thought  that  he  distin- 
guished Art  from  Science  as  being  concerned 
with  Beauty  and  Goodness,  while  Science  is  allowed 
to  range  over  knowable  facts  without  any 'con- 
sideration of  their  nobility  ;  but  that  is  not  the 
case.  From  the  beginning  Ruskin  assumes  the 
principle,  which  he  draws  out  more  strongly  in 
the  Eagle's  Nest,  namely,  that  Science  as  well  as 
Art  is  not  fulfilling  its  purpose  in  taking  cognis- 
ance of  what  is  base  or  of  an  evil  tendency.      It 


VI  Science  and  Art  97 

is  no  doubt  difficult  to  draw  a  definite  line  between 
noble  objects  of  Science  and  base  ones  ;  but  so  it 
is  in  Art,  and  the  mere  extension  of  our  definition 
to  this,  that  Art  is  a  language  expressing  Truth  in 
Beauty,  is  quite  insufficient  as  a  distinction.  When, 
however,  we  understand  that  Art  is  an  activity, 
and  accept  the  old  Greek  distinction,  we  can  no 
longer  confuse  it  with  Science. 

45.  Does  Science  help  Art? — It  is  almost 
universally  believed  by  people  who  are  not  artists, 
that  in  order  to  represent  things  you  ought  to 
know  all  about  them.  They  advise  the  student 
who  wishes  to  draw  the  human  figure  to  learn 
human  anatomy  ;  they  advise  the  history  painter 
to  study  archaeology  for  fear  of  anachronism  in 
his  costumes  and  accessories,  and  so  on.  Ruskin 
is  the  only  writer  that  I  know  of  who  has  firmly 
held  that  scientific  knowledge  does  not  further 
the  real  and  proper  purpose  of  Art.  He  does 
not  deny  that  by  the  help  of  anatomy  you  may 
make  yourself  a  good  anatomical  draughtsman, 
only  he  says  that  anatomical  draughtsmanship  is 
not  Art.  He  does  not  deny  that  archaeology 
produces  extremely  interesting  illustrations  to  the 
history  of  antiquity,  only  he  maintains  that  such 
illustrations,  taken  on  their  own  merits,  are  not 
necessarily  artistic,  and  that  whatever  merit  they 
may  have  from  the  point  of  view  of  Art,  is  in 
spite  of  their  archaeology,  and  is  much  thwarted 
and  hindered  by  it  {L.  A.  P.,  ^  129). 

There  are  three  reasons  for  this  conclusion  : 
First,  as  a  matter  of  fact  Great  Art  has  been  pro- 
duced in  many  branches  entirely  without  scientific 

H 


98  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

knowledge.  It  is  pretty  certain  that  Turner  knew 
nothing  of  geology,  and  yet  his  rock  forms  are 
geologically  accurate ;  that  the  ancient  Greeks 
knew  nothing  of  anatomy,  yet  their  figure  sculp- 
tures still  remain  the  standard  of  figure  drawing  ; 
that  the  old  Italian  masters  knew  nothing  of 
botany,  yet  the  flowers  and  plants  of  Titian  and 
Cima  are  delightfully  characterised.  The  talent 
of  an  artist  is  instinctive :  his  activity,  like  that  of 
birds  building  nests,  is,  in  the  moment  of  its 
exercise,  not  reflective  but  intuitive  {E.  N.,  §  52  ; 
L.  A.,  §  24),  and  the  correspondence  of  his  work 
with  Nature* — his  representative  faculty — is  a 
matter  of  observation  at  the  moment,  or  else  of 
imaginative  memory.  This  is  Mr.  Ruskin's  belief 
as  a  result  of  his  analysis  of  the  methods  of  the 
great  masters. 

Secondly,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  Science  interferes 
with  the  sincerity  of  Art.  The  golden  rule  is, 
"  Draw  what  you  see,  and  don't  draw  what  you 
don't  see,"  But  the  artist  who  has  encumbered 
himself  with  scientific  information  is  always 
tempted  to  draw  what  he  does  not  see,  yet  thinks 
he  ought  to  see.  This  is  illustrated  {E.  N.,  Lect. 
vii.)  by  the  story  of  Turner  refusing  to  insert  the 
portholes  in  a  man-of-war  standing  against  the 
setting  sun.  The  artist  looked  for  the  appearance 
of  his  subject  as  it  was  presented  to  his  eye  ;  the 
naval  captain  at  his  elbow  could  not  accept  a  ship 
without  portholes. 

Third,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  scientific  knowledge 
detracts  from  Beauty.  In  reviewing  the  actual 
history    of    Art    it    is    demonstrable    that    those 


VI  Saejice  and  Art  99 

artists  who  took  a  deep  interest  in  anatomy 
usually  drew  ugly  figures,  while  those  who  study 
the  body  from  a  purely  artistic  point  of  view  felt 
the  beauty  of  it.  This  is  seen  in  comparing 
Diirer  with  Holbein,  and  Mantegna  with  Botticelli 
{E.  N.,  Lect.  viii.,  and  preface).  Michelangelo's 
anatomy  detracts  from  his  divinity ;  Reynolds, 
the  painter  of  grace,  was  notoriously  unlearned  in 
this  branch  of  knowledge  ;  and  in  landscape  the 
same  principle  holds  good. 

It  is  also  true  that  Science  does  not  go  far 
enough  for  Art ;  that  the  trained  perceptions  of 
an  artist  who  knows  his  business  see  at  a  glance 
more  extended  and  more  varied  facts  about  the 
aspect  of  things  than  the  eyes  of  a  scientific 
man,  looking  as  he  does  chiefly  for  facts  which  he 
can  correlate  with  already  known  laws  of  structure 
and  causation.  As  an  apt  illustration  I  may  be 
pardoned  for  quoting  (for  it  is  not  intended  as  a 
compliment)  a  passage  from  the  introduction  to 
the  Limestone  Alps  of  Savoy.  "  All  through 
France  and  Italy,  where  we  had  been  drawing 
Gothic  sculpture,  Mr.  Collingwood,  trained  in 
recent  science  of  anatomical  draughtsmanship,  had 
been  putting  me  continually  in  a  passion  by  look- 
ing for  insertions  of  this  and  the  other  tendon 
and  gut,  instead  of  the  general  effect  of  his  figure." 
And,  remembering  Mr.  Ruskin's  deep  interest  in 
Science,  the  reader  will  understand  that  he  did 
not  formulate  his  views  on  our  present  subject 
as  animated  by  that  contempt  which  is  born  of 
ignorance. 

46.    The    Use  of  Science  to   Art. — Why  then 


lOO  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

does  the  author  of  Modem  Painters  devote  so 
many  chapters  to  geology  and  botany?  Why 
does  Stones  of  Venice  enter  upon  archaeology  and 
history  ?  The  answer  is  given  in  a  word.  Artists 
do  not  need  Science,  but  critics  do.  To  judge  the 
truth  of  a  picture  you  need  to  know  all  about*  its 
subject.  We  may  say  more  than  that.  To  enjoy 
a  picture  you  need  to  understand  its  subject. 
Production  and  criticism  are  as  different  as  simple 
apprehension  and  judgment.  Art  and  Science 
treat  the  same  matter,  but  from  totally  different 
points  of  view  ;  like,  for  example,  religion  and 
philosophy.  Art  imitates  and  constructs  a  shadow 
of  reality  :  it  is  the  reflex  of  Science,  which  seeks 
to  learn  about  that  reality.  And  all  the  scientific 
information  about  the  Matterhorn  and  Mont 
Blanc,  clouds  and  trees,  ancient  buildings  and 
ancient  myths  which  Ruskin  has  brought  together, 
is  definitely  and  expressly  intended  to  set  an 
example  to  the  critic  of  the  spirit  in  which  painters 
of  such  subjects  are  to  be  criticised.  It  is  not  to 
help  the  painters,  who,  if  they  cannot  see  these 
things  for  themselves,  have  not  the  first  requisite 
of  artistic  capacity. 

The  example  that  Ruskin  set  has  certainly 
raised  the  standard  of  criticism.  No  one  can  now- 
adays set  up  business  as  a  critic  of  high  class 
without  a  much  more  extensive  stock-in-trade 
than  the  "  bag  of  rules,  a  well-trussed  pack,"  which 
sufficed  half  a  century  ago. 

And  it  is  a  curious  fact  that  our  most  accom- 
plished landscape  painter  is  a  classical  scholar  who 
has  not  professionally  studied  Science,  nor  on  the 


VI  Science  and  Art  loi 

other  hand  practised  arch£eologic  genre  :  and  our 
best-known  landscape  etcher  is  a  surgeon  who 
does  not,  I  beHeve,  draw  the  figure,  as  one  might 
expect.  Medical  students  who  have  taken  to  art 
have  rarely  made  other  than  mediocre  figure 
painters,  while  on  the  other  hand  the  criticism  of 
scientific  specialists  is  welcomed  by  artists,  and 
their  approval  is  reckoned  high  praise. 

"  It  is  in  raising  us  from  the  first  state  of 
inactive  reverie  to  the  second  of  useful  thought, 
that  scientific  pursuits  are  to  be  chiefly  praised  ; 
but  in  restraining  us  at  this  second  stage  and 
checking  the  impulses  toward  higher  contemplation 
they  are  to  be  feared  or  blamed.  They  may  in 
certain  minds  be  consistent  with  contemplation  ; 
but  only  by  an  effort :  in  their  nature  they  are 
always  adverse  to  it  "  {M.  P.,  vol.  iii.  p.  3  i  3).  But 
an  artist,  according  to  his  teaching,  need  not  be  a 
person  of  uncultivated  mind  ;  on  the  contrary,  it 
is  necessary  that  he  should  be  educated,  that  is, 
that  the  powers  of  his  mind  should  be  well 
developed  by  training,  though  it  is  undesirable 
that  in  the  matters  of  Science  parallel  with  the 
Art  he  practises  he  should  be  learned  {S.  V.,  vol. 
iii.  chap,  ii.)  He  must  have  a  mind  greater  than 
the  knowledge  it  holds  ;  perception  and  sympathy 
overpowering  information  and  reflection.  In  this 
as  in  other  matters  knowledge  puffeth  up,  but 
charity  edifieth.  It  does  not  however  follow 
that  a  man  of  active  mind  may  not  employ  him- 
self upon  learned  pursuits  as  a  relaxation  from  his 
Art.  Botticelli  wrote  a  commentary  on  Dante  ; 
other  artists  have   practised    various  branches   of 


I02  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

literature,  and  some  of  our  best-known  artists  of 
to-day  you  would  never  guess  from  their  work  to 
be  keen  students  of  special  subjects  in  theology, 
antiquities,  politics,  science.  This  is  as  it  should 
be,  but  in  proportion  as  these  studies  obtrude 
themselves  into  Art,  in  that  proportion  the  Art 
runs  a  serious  risk  of  abdicating  its  proper  function 
and  purpose. 

47.  History-painting  and  Archcsology. — One  of 
the  cases  most  obviously  in  point  is  that  of  history. 
It  is  generally  supposed  necessary  if  one  desires 
to  paint  a  subject  from  a  past  age  that  one  should 
be  able  to  represent  the  cast  of  countenance, 
costume,  character,  accessories  and  scenery  which 
belonged  to  the  subject.  This  view  has  been 
strongly  furthered  by  Pre-Raphaelitism,  and  the 
learning  and  research  of  Mr.  Holman  Hunt  have 
set  an  example  which  most  artists  feel  bound  to 
follow.  Continental  artists  are  quite  as  conscienti- 
ous in  their  desire  for  archaeological  accuracy,  and 
very  wonderful  things  have  been  done  by  Tadema, 
G^rAme,  Meissonier,  Cormon,  not  to  mention  a 
host  of  others. 

But  these  are  rather  proofs  of  the  triumph  of 
artistic  skill  in  tours  de  force ;  whatever  artistic 
interest  such  pictures  have  is  wholly  beside  their 
historic  interest.  So  far  as  Mr.  Tadema  touches 
the  heart  of  the  public  he  does  it  by  showing,  not 
what  Pheidias  or  Sappho  wore,  but  by  showing 
that  they  too  were  human  beings  with  feelings 
not  very  unlike  ours.  The  greatest  triumphs  in 
this  kind  have  been  Shakespeare's  Roman  plays, — 
the  work  of  a  man  who  knew  little  Latin  and  less 


VI 


Science  and  Art  103 


Greek ;  but  he  knew  humanity  if  not  "  the 
humanities,"  and  is  at  his  greatest  when  least 
hampered  by  the  exigencies  of  historic  accuracy. 
It  is  the  same  with  Scott  and  other  writers  ;  and 
in  Art  these  historic  attempts  are  successful  in 
proportion  as  the  costume  and  accessories  sink  in 
importance,  compared  with  the  dramatic  or  mythic 
interest  of  the  painter  in  his  subject. 

To  most  men  archaeology  is  a  snare  :  in  the 
first  place  it  is  impossible  to  be  fully  complete 
and  thoroughly  accurate.  The  works  of  the 
French  School  of  last  century  and  in  the  earlier 
part  of  this,  though  they  were  praised  by  the 
historical  students  of  the  time,  entirely  fail  to 
satisfy  the  requirements  of  more  extended  know- 
ledge. It  is  more  than  probable  that  those 
archaeological  pictures  which  have  lately  been 
received  with  applause,  will  in  process  of  time  be 
found  wanting  in  those  very  qualities  for  which 
they  are  now  praised,  and  will  then  be  judged  as 
we  now  judge  the  works  of  similar  attempts  by 
earlier  masters, — purely  for  their  artistic  value  ; 
and  will  require  apology  for — their  anachronisms  ! 
Of  English  attempts  in  this  kind  Mr.  Holman 
Hunt's  Finding  of  Christ  in  the  Temple  is  perhaps 
the  most  sincere  and  complete ;  and  yet,  as  M, 
Ernest  Chesneau  points  out,  it  has  its  errors  {The 
English  School  of  Painting,  p.  1 90).  Why  then  does 
Ruskin  praise  the  works  of  this  artist  ?  partly  for 
their  sincerity  as  strenuous  attempts  to  realise  the 
stories  on  which  Christian  belief  has  been  founded. 
Where  archaeology  is  used  as  a  means  of  realising 
the  ideal  of  Faith,  it  is  laudable  to  that  extent ;  in 


I04  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

other  cases  it  is  right  only  so  far  as  its  aims  are 
noble.  For  school  teaching,  as  illustrating  history, 
it  might  be  largely  used  (/.  E.,  §§  106-109). 

In  the  second  place,  it  is  a  matter  of  fact  that 
Great  Art  is  careless  of  anachronism.  It  was  not 
because  of  ignorance  that  the  great  Renaissance 
painters  introduced  costumes  and  accessories  which 
do  not  truly  fit  with  their  subjects  ;  the  scholars 
of  their  time  were  as  keen  as  scholars  are  now  for 
historic  propriety ;  but  Veronese  and  Raphael, 
though  moving  in  a  society  which  cultivated 
Ciceronian  Latinity  and  Plato's  Greek,  were  more 
desirous  to  expound  their  thought  in  its  relation 
to  the  broad  aspects  and  strong  feelings  of 
humanity  than  to  dress  it  and  trim  it  into  an 
illustration  of  their  learning. 

We  may  say  more  than  that.  In  some  cases 
the  anachronism  is  a  source  of  immediate  and 
powerful  significance.  The  picture  ascribed  to 
Rembrandt  of  Christ  Blessing  the  Children  is 
rightly  meant  to  touch  us  as  an  example  of  the 
eternal  freshness  of  the  idea.  The  artist  does 
not  expect  you  to  cavil  at  the  notion  that  his 
ideally  draped  Saviour  lays  His  hand  upon  the 
heads  of  little  Dutch  girls  and  boys  ;  he  means  to 
dissuade  you  from  the  error  that  it  was  all  nothing 
more  than  a  sweet  story  of  old,  an  irrecoverable 
dream  ;  for  He  is  with  you  always,  even  to  the 
end  of  the  world.  And  so  this  picture  stands  or 
falls  as  a  work  of  Art  entirely  on  its  artistic  merits  ; 
literary  subject  and  archaeological  science  are 
beside  the  question — in  this  case  cancelling  one 
another.     And  this  is  what  Ruskin  means  when 


VI  Science  and  Art  105 

he  says  that  if  you  cannot  make  a  Madonna  out 
of  an  English  girl  you  cannot  make  one  out  of  a 
Jewess,  and  other  dark  sayings  of  similar  import. 

48.  Perspective  and  Geometry. — Although  Mr. 
Ruskin  once  wrote  The  Elements  of  Perspective  as 
a  special  treatise  on  the  Science,  he  has  no  great 
faith  in  the  value  of  much  learning  in  geometry  as 
a  help  to  Art.  Half  an  hour's  study,  he  thinks, 
ought  to  put  you  in  possession  of  all  you  practi- 
cally need. 

When  perspective  was  first  studied  its  votaries 
filled  their  pictures  with  exercises  in  its  use  to  an 
extent  which  makes  them  ridiculous  to  our  eyes. 
It  is  not  likely  that  modern  painters  would  parade 
their  knowledge  in  so  clumsy  a  way  ;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  some  of  the  best  draughtsmen  of 
architecture  have  been  singularly  ignorant  of  the 
theory  of  perspective,  like  Prout ;  or  careless  of  it, 
like  Turner  ;  who,  although  he  was  Professor  of 
Perspective  at  the  Academy,  trusted  wholly  to 
observation  and  impression  in  his  practical  work. 

In  landscape  "All  the  Professors  of  Perspective 
could  not  by  perspective  draw  the  curve  of  a  sea- 
beach  "  {S.  v.,  vol.  iii.  chap,  ii.)  In  interiors,  per- 
spective may  be  quite  right  according  to  rule,  and 
yet  be  so  ill-chosen  as  to  appear  wrong ;  it  may 
abound  in  inaccuracies  demonstrable  by  measure- 
ment, and  yet  may  give  the  impression  which 
satisfies  the  eye.  And  very  often,  when  an  artist 
trusts  to  measurement,  and  has  at  the  same  time 
to  contend  with  all  the  complicated  difficulties  and 
subsequent  processes  of  picture-making,  he  may 
find  himself  wrong   in   the   end  ;    whereas,  if  he 


1 06  A rt-  Teaching  of  Ruskm  chap. 

had  trusted  to  observation  and  an  accurate  habit 
of  eye,  his  picture  would  have  been  right. 

In  aerial  perspective,  a  little  learning  is  a  still 
more  dangerous  thing.  "  All  the  rules  in  aerial 
perspective  will  not  tell  me  how  sharply  the  pines 
on  the  hilltop  are  drawn  against  the  sky  "  {S.  V., 
loc.  cit.)  The  background  of  Millais's  Brunswicker, 
painted  as  it  really  looks,  was  criticised  by  sciolists 
on  a  misunderstanding.  In  this  department,  more 
than  in  any  other,  what  is  supposed  to  be  scientific 
knowledge  is  apt  to  degenerate  into  mere  conven- 
tionality ;  the  condition  of  the  atmosphere  and  the 
requirements  of  the  subject  are  so  various  that  no 
rules  suffice.  The  only  rule  of  the  least  value  is 
to  draw  what  you  see,  with  the  preliminary 
understanding  that  your  perceptions  have  been 
thoroughly  trained  by  a  long  course  of  sincere 
study. 

It  may  be  objected  that  in  T/te  Laws  of  Fhole 
the  author  recurs  to  map  drawing  and  geometrical 
exercises ;  but  it  must  be  remembered  that  he 
was  anxious  in  his  Oxford  teaching  to  justify  the 
Art  School,  to  which  he  invited  busy  under- 
graduates, by  showing  that  their  studies  might  be 
directed  in  such  a  way  as  to  become  useful  addi- 
tions to  their  learning  {L.  A.,  Lect.  iv.)  These 
maps  are  given  as  examples  for  their  own  sake, 
not  in  any  way  as  means  towards  making  pictures. 

49.  Landscape  and  Natural  Science. — Science 
examines  the  structure,  Art  the  aspect  of  things 
{M.P.,\o\.  iv.  p.  400) ;  both  seek  the  truth,  but  truth 
of  different  kinds,  and  differently  viewed.  It  is 
possible  to  make  a  geological  diagram  which  shall 


VI 


Science  and  Art  107 


have  some  character  of  artistic  beauty,  but  that  is 
a  very  different  thing  from  a  picture.  A  geologist 
painting  mountains  must  paint  them  either  as  a 
geologist  or  as  an  artist ;  nobody  expects  him  to 
be  both  at  once,  except  those  to  whom  eclecticism 
in  thought  is  a  possible  philosophy.  The  attempts 
of  the  Bolognese  School  to  insert  into  their  pictures 
a  little  of  Michelangelo's  drawing,  with  a  little  of 
Parmegiano's  grace,  has  destroyed  the  value  of 
their  Art  to  all  except  connoisseurs.  A  work  of 
Art  is  a  whole  thing,  and  its  unity  is  destroyed 
when  the  artist  approaches  it  at  different  times 
with  irreconcilable  intentions.  But  a  landscape 
need  not  contain  faults  which  are  demonstrable 
by  Science  ;  on  the  contrary,  truth  is  its  starting- 
point.  How,  then,  is  this  truth  arrived  at  ?  "  As 
an  artist  increases  in  acuteness  of  perception,  the 
facts  which  become  apparent  and  outward  to  him 
are  those  which  bear  upon  the  growth  or  make  of 
the  thing"  {M.  P.,  vol.  iv.  p.  192).  These  are  the 
most  irriportant  truths,  and  they  are  revealed  to 
sympathetic  observation.  The  greater  part  of 
Modern  Painters  is  occupied  with  showing  how 
Turner,  without  scientific  knowledge,  divined  these 
scientific  truths  ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  other 
landscape  painters. 

It  seems  to  be  a  fact  that  even  those  artists 
who  have  studied  various  forms  of  Science,  do  in 
their  work  forget  or  ignore  what  they  have  learned, 
and  trust  to  feeling  and  observation.  The  moment 
learning  intrudes  itself,  consciously,  the  artistic 
value  of  the  work  is  diminished — from  which  it 
follows  that  the  one  thing  needful  for  an  artist  is 


1 08  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

not  Science,  but  accuracy  of  observation, — readi- 
ness of  insight.  Science  comes  afterwards  as  the 
weapon  for  the  critic. 

50.  Draughtsmanship  and  Anatomy. — There 
are  four  facts  which  Mr.  Ruskin  claims  to  have 
ascertained,  telling  against  the  intentional  use  of 
anatomy  as  a  help  to  figure  drawing. 

In  the  first  place,  as  already  pointed  out, 
anatomy  interferes  with  the  sense  of  beauty  and 
the  general  effect.  The  tendency  of  learning  is  to 
justify  ugliness  ;  to  set  the  less  important  truth  of 
structure  above  the  more  important  truth  of  the 
relation  of  the  figure  to  its  surroundings,  and  it 
generally  results  in  hard  modelling  of  muscles  and 
wiry  lines  of  contour. 

In  the  next  place,  the  habit  of  mind  which 
concerns  itself  with  forms  observed  in  death  is 
antagonistic  to  the  temper  of  an  artist,  whose  aim 
is  to  paint  life.  Expression  is  a  more  important 
truth  than  structure. 

Thirdly,  Art  based  on  anatomy  soon  exhausts 
itself  {L.  F.,  chap.  i.  §  4,  note).  It  degenerates  into 
posture-making,  and  the  figure  is  looked  upon  as  a 
vehicle  for  display  of  Science,  and  not  as  the  means 
for  exhibiting  a  poetical  idea. 

Finally,  though  an  artist  may  have  known  some- 
thing of  the  Science,  he  paints  best  when  he  forgets 
it ;  and  those  periods  when  Art  began  definitely 
to  decline,  are  those  periods  when  anatomy  was 
studied  as  an  end  in  itself  (S.  V.,  vol.  iii.  chap, 
ii.)  Scientific  knowledge  is  useful  to  tell  the 
reasons  of  shapes  and  structures,  but  it  is  not  that 
which  Art  requires  ;  the  artist  needs  imaginative 


VI 


Science  and  Art  109 


grasp  of  their  expression  (L.  A,  §  42).  Some- 
times (that  is  to  say,  in  Nature)  the  anatomy  (the 
structure)  is  delightful,  but  it  ought  to  be  neither 
studiously  concealed  nor  studiously  displayed 
(read  M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  sec.  i,  chap,  xiv.) 

On  this  question  Ruskin's  teaching  has  been 
consistent  throughout,  but  has  gathered  strength 
and  sometimes  vehemence  in  his  later  years.  I 
believe  that,  putting  theoretical  questions  aside, 
there  are  few  eminent  artists  who  would  not  more 
or  less  admit  that  anatomy  has  been  of  very  little 
practical  use  in  comparison  with  experience,  and 
observation  of  the  figure  entirely  from  without. 
Like  many  other  old-fashioned  beliefs  in  education, 
the  theory  that  students  should  learn  anatomy  is 
kept  alive  by  the  feeling  that  the  younger  genera- 
tion ought  to  be  put  through  the  same  discipline 
which  has  formed,  or  distorted,  the  preceding  age. 
The  question  is  not  whether  anatomy  is  or  is  not 
an  interesting  and  valuable  science  ;  Ruskin  simply 
points  out  that  artists  have  to  unlearn  it,  at  the 
peril  of  losing  the  higher  qualities  of  their  Art. 

In  animal  painting  he  would  have  students 
"  like  better  to  look  at  a  bird  than  shoot  it "  {L.  A., 
§  23).  Biographies  of  plants  and  animals  are 
what  artists  should  study  rather  than  dissections 
{L.  -^.,  §  107).  "When  we  dissect  we  substitute 
in  our  thoughts  the  neatness  of  mechanical  con- 
trivance for  the  pleasure  of  the  animal.  The 
moment  we  reduce  enjoyment  to  ingenuity,  and 
volition  to  leverage,  that  instant  all  sense  of  beauty 
ceases  "  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  p.  91). 

5  I .    T/ie  Nude. — With  the  study  of  anatomy 


no  Art- Teach ing  of  Rusktn  chap. 

is  connected  that  of  the  nude,  which  Mr,  Ruskin 
regards  as  part  of  the  interior  structure  of  the 
figure  as  seen  draped  ;  and,  in  the  great  majority 
of  subjects,  not  part  of  the  external  aspect  of  the 
figure  any  more  than  the  geology  of  a  mountain, 
which,  from  an  artist's  point  of  view,  is  always 
seen  clothed  with  snow  or  turf  or  trees  {E.  N.y 
Lect.  viii.)  As  a  subject  of  study,  however,  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  ;  he  does  not  ask  artists  to 
refrain  from  it  in  the  sense  in  which  he  teaches 
that  the  interior  anatomy  of  the  figure  is  un- 
necessary and  misleading  {A.  F.,  p.  257).  He 
points  out  that  the  drawing  of  nude  figures,  and 
the  subsequent  clothing  of  them  with  drapery 
arranged  on  the  lay  figure  is  a  fallacy,  and  holds 
that  drapery  ought  to  be  studied  from  the  living 
model ;  and  this,  when  motion  is  to  be  expressed, 
must  be  done  with  rapid  sketches  in  the  same 
way  in  which  waves,  or  other  moving  objects,  are 
studied.  It  is  not  enough  guarantee  of  the  correct- 
ness of  the  final  result  to  begin  with  a  well-drawn 
nude  body,  and  cover  it  with  ideal  and  impossible, 
that  is  to  say,  not  observed,  drapery. 

But  if  the  nude  is  necessary  for  study,  to  what 
extent  ought  it  to  be  admitted  as  a  subject  of 
Art  ?  He  considers  that  it  should  be  shown  only 
as  much  as  in  daily  life,  and  that  for  two  reasons. 
In  the  fi^st  place,  the  nude  is  not  necessarily 
beautiful.  It  is  only  as  a  vehicle  of  high  emo- 
tional feeling  or  abstract  thought  that  the  human 
body  as  such  is  a  beautiful  object ;  it  can  become 
ugly — corruptio  optimi  pessima — when  treated  with 
coarse  realism  or  debasing  associations.      Some  of 


VI  Science  and  Art  1 1 1 

Durer's  engravings  and  Mulready's  studies  are 
examples  of  the  nude  divested  of  all  claims  upon 
the  imagination  as  a  beautiful  object. 

In  the  second  place,  because  scientific  know- 
ledge is  useless  as  compared  with  ethical  habit 
(Z.  A.^  §  42),  it  is  better  to  be  right  minded  than 
well  informed.  An  artist  may  not  mean  to  be 
sensual,  and  yet  he  may  be  the  cause  of  sensuality 
in  the  spectator.  The  great  part  of  pictures  of 
the  nude  do  practically  appeal,  in  a  great  number 
of  those  who  see  them,  to  lower  instincts  {E.  N.y 
Lect.  viii.)  Even  Schopenhauer  has  pointed  out 
that  such  works  appeal  to  what  he  calls  the  will 
to  live,  as  opposed  to  the  understanding,  the 
higher  faculties  which  it  is  the  mission  of  Art  to 
feed  and  develop  at  the  expense  of  animal  instincts. 

It  is  commonly  replied  that  in  Greek  Art  the 
nude  was  used  as  means  of  high  religious  teach- 
ing. That  was  the  case  only  when  it  was  treated 
severely  and  in  the  earlier  period  ;  but  as  Ruskin 
acutely  remarks,  "  In  the  well-known  examples  of 
classical  Art,  the  nude  was  by  no  means  used  with 
a  consistently  high  moral  intent "  {E.  N.,  Lect.  viii.) 
It  is  said  that  the  Greeks  were  familiar  with  the 
naked  human  figure  in  the  Gymnasia,  though  they 
were  not  more  accustomed  to  it  in  daily  life  than 
we  are  ;  but  no  student  of  antiquity  can  fail  to 
remember  that  it  was  in  the  Gymnasia  that  those 
passions  were  fed  and  fanned  which  are  the  blot 
and  scandal  of  Greek  civilisation.  At  the  present 
day,  from  the  very  fear  and  doubt  with  which  we 
approach  the  nude,  it  becomes  expressive  of  evil 
{M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  p.  123),  and  it  can  only  be  justified 


112  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin       chap,  vi 

by  such  severity  of  treatment  and  obvious  moral 
purpose  as  very  few  artists  attempt. 

The  function  of  the  artist  is  therefore  to  be 
no  scientist,  but  a  seeing  and  feeling  creature ;  not 
to  think,  judge,  argue,  know,  but  to  see  and  feel 
(vS.  v.,  vol.  iii.  chap,  ii.),  and  he  must  learn  to  see 
the  most  important  truths.  Both  Science  and  Art 
to  be  valuable  must  be  true,  and  they  must  deal 
with  what  is  noble  ;  but  Art  more  especially  seeks 
for  beauty  in  truth.  And  our  next  question  is — 
In  what  does  Beauty  consist? 


CHAPTER    VII 


BEAUTY 


52.  Tnith  and  Beauty,  —  If  we  believe  with 
Ruskin  that  Nature  is  more  beautiful  than  Art 
(§  23),  it  might  seem  that  we  should  be  safe  in 
studying  any  fact  of  Nature  that  comes  to  hand  ; 
and,  as  a  matter  of  study,  any  true  piece  of 
Nature,  sympathetically  observed,  is  more  beauti- 
ful in  some  of  its  elements  than  anything  that  can 
be  invented  to  improve  upon  them.  But  it  very 
often  happens  that  the  beauty  which  strikes  us  in 
Nature  lies  in  characteristics  which  Art  cannot  hope 
to  reproduce — its  brilliance  of  tone,  its  movement, 
its  delicacy  of  detail,  its  strength  of  effect,  and  so  on. 
The  business  of  the  artist  is  to  choose  those  truths 
which  he  can  render  as  beautiful,  and  to  abstract 
them  on  the  one  hand  from  beauties  which  he  can- 
not represent,  and  from  ugliness  which  he  will  not. 
That  "  Beauty  is  Truth,  Truth  Beauty,"  as  Keats 
says  in  one  of  his  sonnets,  is  a  fallacy  connected 
with  the  academic  theory  of  the  ideal.  Reynolds 
and  his  school  taught  that  Beauty  was  the  attri- 
bute of  the  Platonic  archetype.  The  Divine  Idea 
was,  they  said,  not  only  in    a   higher  sense  true, 

I 


114  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

but  also  more  beautiful  than  the  ordinary  facts 
of  Nature ;  and  this  Ideal  Beauty  they  sought  to 
arrive  at  by  the  process  of  generalisation.  Their 
doctrine  of  Beauty  stands  or  falls  with  their  doctrine 
of  Truth,  and  needs  no  further  discussion. 

But  Art  critics  of  the  other  school,  catching 
at  the  formula  "  Truth  is  Beauty,"  based  upon  it  an 
argument  for  imitation  ;  for,  they  said,  if  Nature  is 
beautiful,  the  more  like  the  picture  is  (the  more 
deceptively  imitative)  the  more  beautiful  it  will 
be.  A  very  transparent  sophism,  which  hardly 
needs  the  denial  Ruskin  has  often  given  to  it 
{M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  sec.  i,  chap.  iv.  ;  vol.  iii.  p.  33). 

53.  Erroneous  Opinions  on  Beauty. — Theorists 
more  or  less  directly  influenced  by  the  sceptical 
materialistic  school  of  last  century,  called  in  France 
the  Maircissententy  tried  to  "  account "  for  Beauty, 
as  they  did  for  everything  else,  by  referring  it  to 
use,  custom,  or  association. 

That  Beauty  is  what  is  useful  involves  the 
degradation  of  it  into  an  object  of  desire ;  a 
doctrine  that  could  only  be  held  by  those  who 
reduce  all  morality  to  selfishness,  and  rightly 
opposed  by  Kant,  Coleridge,  and  Hegel.  A  more 
subtle  form  of  this  fallacy  is  the  modern  scientific 
idea  that  Beauty  is  the  analogue  of  sexual  attract- 
iveness ;  a  doctrine  which  Ruskin  considers  quite 
inadequate.  A  girl,  he  says,  is  praised  because 
she  is  like  a  rose,  not  a  rose  because  it  is  like  a 
girl.  Our  feelings  in  the  contemplation  of  artistic 
beauty,  unless  it  be  connected  with  an  appeal  to 
lower  instincts  (§  51),  wholly  exclude  the  notion 
of  its  being  an  object  of  desire. 


VII  Beauty  1 1 5 

That  Beauty  depends  on  habit  or  custom  is 
another  eighteenth-century  fallacy,  and  involves 
the  question  of  its  reality  {M.  P.,  vol.  iii.  p.  24). 
Reynolds  and  Coleridge  alike  show  that  the 
barbarous  customs  and  ideals,  if  such  they  may 
be  called,  of  nations  in  which  the  feeling  for  Art 
has  not  been  developed,  have  no  weight  in  deter- 
mining the  question ;  and  Ruskin  contributes 
the  remark  that  custom  deadens  sensation  but 
confirms  affection  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  sec.  i,  chap,  iv.), 
and  thus  inures  us  to  ugliness,  but  does  not  create 
Beauty,  which  has  a  reality  of  its  own,  just  as 
Truth  has,  in  spite  of  error. 

The  association  of  ideas  upon  which  Mr. 
Alison  tried  to  base  the  conception  of  Beauty  is 
shown  by  Ruskin  (as  by  Coleridge  before  him) 
to  be  inadequate.  It  certainly  adds  interest  and 
enhances  the  Beauty  of  beautiful  objects,  but 
does  not  create  it  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  ib.) 

Beauty,  therefore,  is  not  arbitrary,  but  a  real 
quality,  having  an  existence  of  its  own  apart  from 
all  other  considerations,  although  its  power  is 
greatly  enhanced  by  its  connection  with  truth, 
use,  custom,  and  association.  In  his  analysis  of 
the  subject  Ruskin  has  been  anticipated  in  main 
principles  by  Coleridge,  though  he  develops  his 
doctrine  very  differently.  The  religious  turn  he 
gives  to  it  seems  to  me  not  inseparable  from  the 
thought  which  underlies  its  exposition ;  but  I 
state  his  teaching  as  he  formulated  it  in  1845 
{M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  sec.  i)  and  reinforced  it  in  1883 
(Preface  to  M.  P.,  vol.  ii.)  His  ideas  in  1842, 
when  he  was  writing  the   first   volume,  seem    to 


1 1 6  Art- Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

reach  on  this   subject   no   further   than    those  of 
Coleridge. 

54.  Taste. — In  order  to  explain  the  attitude 
which  he  takes  toward  Beauty,  as  something 
other  than  an  object  of  desire,  something  more 
than  what  Coleridge  calls  the  agreeable,  he 
adopts  a  distinction  already  set  forth  by  his 
predecessor  in  poetry  and  philosophy.  Pleasure 
may  be  received  through  sense-perception — in 
Greek  ^Esthesis  ;  and  as  the  chief  of  the  senses 
in  the  matter  of  giving  pleasure  is  that  of  Taste, 
the  feelings  which  we  experience  in  regarding  a 
work  of  Art  have  been  likened  by  the  earlier 
theorists  to  the  pleasure  of  Taste.  And,  conse- 
quently, by  a  metaphor,  the  faculty  which  per- 
ceives and  delights  in  Beauty  has  been  called 
Taste,  gusto,  go^t.  Those  philosophers  who 
admitted  that  Beauty  is  real  and  not  arbitrary 
have  imagined  a  faculty  which  they  call  comtnunis 
sensus — a  taste  common  to  all,  whose  results  are 
practically  the  same  in  all  human  beings  except 
those  whom  Aristotle  calls  void  of  perception,  as 
it  were  blind  to  Beauty.  This  doctrine  is  parallel 
with  that  which  makes  morality  dependent  upon 
a  similar  "  Common  Sense."  And  though  this 
theory  was  an  advance  upon  cruder  utilitarian 
reasoning,  the  fact  of  the  perversion  of  its  catch- 
word in  popular  language  shows  how  it  has  failed 
of  a  full  explanation  of  the  facts.  "  Good  taste," 
as  it  is  called — involving  artificial  refinement — is 
very  inadequate  to  the  forming  of  right  judgments, 
and  it  is  "  adverse  to  the  understanding  of  noble 
Art "  {M.  P.,  vol.  iii.  p.  67). 


vii  Beauty  117 

The  school  to  which  Ruskin  belongs  in 
thought  is  that  connected  on  the  one  hand  with 
romanticism,  and  on  the  other  with  transcendent- 
alism, originating  in  Germany,  and  spreading  to 
England  through  Coleridge  and  Carlyle.  It  is 
difficult  to  trace  any  exact  affiliation  of  the 
doctrines  of  Modern  Painters  to  any  given  writings 
of  the  school  ;  but  in  a  general  way  they,  and  all 
Mr.  Ruskin's  thought  on  other  matters  than  Art, 
run  parallel  with  German  thinking,  in  spite  of  his 
disclaimer.  In  this  matter  of  Beauty  he  seems  to 
have  received  the  first  hints  from  Coleridge,  and, 
finding  a  justification  of  his  belief  in  Aristotle,  to 
have  worked  out  his  theory  independently. 

55.  Theoria  and  jSsthesis. — He  refuses  to 
accept  sense-perception  as  sufficient  to  account 
for  the  facts.  Taste  implies  desire,  which  is 
absent,  and  fails  to  embrace  the  association  of 
ideas,  which,  though  insufficient  in  itself  as  an 
explanation,  is  an  important  element  in  our 
attitude  towards  Beauty.  Nor  is  it  a  purely 
intellectual  process,  which  would  bring  Art  too 
dangerously  near  science  for  clearness  of  distinc- 
tion. He  therefore  uses  the  term  "  Theoria "  or 
contemplation,  adopted  from  Aristotle  (from  whom 
Hegel  also  adopted  it),  to  express  the  "  faculty  of 
the  soul "  with  which  we  regard  Beauty. 

The  pleasures  of  sense,  yEsthesis,  are  open 
to  intemperance ;  they  are  also  arbitrary  ;  they 
involve  the  fallacies  that  Beauty  is  the  result  of 
use  and  custom  ;  but  the  pleasures  of  intellect 
are  universal,  and  involve  reality  in  their  object. 
In  popular  language   they  are  called  the  higher 


ii8  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

pleasures — namely,  those  involving  joy,  admiration, 
and  gratitude.  We  are  right  in  saying  that  we 
ought  to  prefer  such  ;  we  can  train  ourselves  to 
use  our  higher  faculties,  and  thus  the  perception 
of  Beauty  comes  within  the  sphere  of  morality. 
Hence  he  calls  "  Theoria "  (that  is,  this  higher 
contemplation)  a  moral  faculty,  and  it  takes 
a  place  between  sense -perception  and  intellect, 
embracing  both,  but  resting  wholly  on  neither. 

Nature,  as  Coleridge  says  in  his  essay  "  on 
Poetry  or  Art,"  is  to  a  religious  observer  the  Art 
of  God,  and  human  Art  is  a  mean  between  thought 
and  things.  This  position  Ruskin  adopts,  and 
consequently  makes  no  such  distinction  as  that 
drawn  by  Hegel  between  Beauty  in  Nature  and  in 
Art.  Theoria  is  just  as  much  the  grateful  and 
reverent  contemplation  of  God's  Art  as  it  is  of 
man's  Art ;  all  the  more  so  because  Ruskin 
regards  the  human  artist  as  only  a  tool  in  God's 
hands,  though  it  may  be  an  unwilling  instrument, 
or  an  unwitting  one.  Theoria  is  the  admiration 
with  which  we  behold  phenomena  in  their  relation 
to  natural  law.  And  I  think  that,  although  he 
rightly  discriminates  our  appreciation  of  the  Beauty 
of  a  flower  from  that  of  a  mathematical  demonstra- 
tion, still  the  latter  may  be  regarded  as  a  sort  of 
confused  Theoria. 

In  his  preface  of  1 883  X.o  M.  P.,  vol.  ii.,  he  leans 
strongly  upon  the  religious  terms  in  which  these 
doctrines  were  stated.  Our  first  condition  of 
delight,  he  says,  "in  the  contemplation  of  any  visible 
thing,  or  in  the  conception  of  an  invisible  one," 
rests  on  the  idea  of  a  Personal  Deity,  and  in  the 


VII  Beauty  1 1 9 

security  of  our  relations  to  him — on  our  Righteous- 
ness and  Faith,  as  Christianity  puts  it ;  or  on 
Righteousness,  Honour,  and  Piety,  as  enlightened 
Paganism  said.  "  For  only  in  this  state  of  mind 
can  we  see  that  anything  is  good  in  the  sense 
that  its  Creator  pronounced  it  so," 

And  Theoria,  unlike  ^sthesis,  is  especially  the 
prerogative  of  human  nature  as  distinct  from  that 
of  animals  ;  for,  as  Aristotle  said,  "  Perfect  happi- 
ness is  some  sort  of  energy  of  contemplation 
(Theoria),  for  all  the  life  of  the  gods  is  therein  glad 
and  that  of  men  glad  in  the  degree  in  which  some 
likeness  to  the  gods  in  this  energy  belongs  to 
them.  For  none  other  of  living  creatures  (but  men 
only)  can  be  happy,  since  in  no  way  can  they  have 
any  part  in  contemplation  "  {Ethics,  bk.  x.  chap,  viii.) 

The  subject  is  again  discussed  in  Love's  Meinie, 
Lecture  iii.,  where,  as  in  the  preface  already  quoted, 
he  speaks  very  strongly  against  the  degradation 
of  Art  into  "  .^stheticism,"  that  modern  school 
which  panders  to  personal  ease,  voluptuousness, 
and  the  gratification  of  the  senses.  This  view  no 
doubt  is  the  result  of  the  increased  popular 
interest  in  Art  brought  about  to  a  great  extent 
by  Ruskin's  own  work ;  but  he  is  as  little 
responsible  for  it,  or  for  any  other  morbid  or 
sentimental  turn  which  his  teachings  have  received 
at  the  hands  of  foolish  followers,  as  any  other 
great  leader  and  innovator  is  responsible  for  the 
heresies  and  extravagances  which  pretend  to  take 
their  origin  in  his  teaching.  And  while  Ruskin 
goes  heartily  with  every  attempt  to  adorn  and 
elevate  life,  and  claims  for  sentiment  a  place  side 


1 20  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

by  side  with  utility  in  the  broad  view  of  things  as 
they  are,  it  is  only  a  very  partial  view  of  his 
teaching  which  labels  him  with  sentimentalism 
and  aestheticism. 

56.  Typical  Beauty.  —  The  manifestation  of 
Divine  attributes,  or  universal  laws  in  phenomena, 
is  therefore  the  subject-matter  of  Theoria  ;  and 
Ruskin  proceeds  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  sec.  i,  chap,  v.)  to 
collect  a  few  examples  of  the  working  of  his  theory. 
They  are  not  given  as  a  complete  analysis  of  the 
nature  of  Beauty,  but  only  as  illustrations  of  certain 
cases. 

(i)  Infinity y  as  Type  of  Divine  Incomprehensi- 
bility. This  is  in  the  first  place  the  source  of 
sublimity,  as  before  noticed  (§  1 6).  In  the  second 
place  it  is  the  source  of  Beauty  seen  in  curvature, 
gradation,  and  so  on.  A  finite  curve  is  less 
beautiful  than  an  infinite  one,  and  there  are  few 
natural  objects  whose  beauty  cannot  be  shown 
on  analysis  to  consist  in  the  fact  that  they  are 
bounded  by  infinite  curves  {M.  P.,  vol.  iv.  pp.  197, 
270,  segq)  The  beauty  of  light  and  colour  is 
expressed  in  gradation,  which  is  to  them  what 
curvature  is  to  line. 

(2)  Unity^  as  Type  of  Comprehensiveness,  is 
seen  in  variety,  in  four  moods  :  {a)  In  subjection  of 
various  forms  to  one  common  impulse,  as  in  the 
drift  of  clouds  and  waves  ;  ip)  in  origin,  as  in  the 
radiating  spring  of  leaves  from  one  common  start- 
ing-point ;  {c)  in  sequence  of  variant  individuals 
resembling  one  another,  but  differing  in  minor 
characteristics,  as  in  running  patterns  of  good 
decorative   work ;   {d)   in    membership,  shown    in 


VII 


Beauty  121 


proportion,  which  is  beautiful  only  when  apparent 
and  visible  ;  constructive  proportion  not  being  in 
itself  necessarily  beautiful,  but  part  of  the  inward 
structure  of  things  of  which  anatomy  takes  cognis- 
ance, not  Art.  Although  proportion  seems  subject 
to  law,  it  is  impossible  to  make  rules  for  it,  any 
more  than  in  music, — no  one  set  of  dimensions 
can  be  taken  as  best,  any  more  than  one  tune. 

(3)  Repose,  as  Type  of  Permanence,  may  be 
expressed  both  in  the  subject  of  the  picture  and 
in  the  object  which  serves  as  model.  Under  this 
heading  might  be  included  ideas  of  power  (§  16), 
since  repose  involves  the  sense  of  possible  energy, 
and  it  is  a  mark  of  the  highest  Art  manifesting 
difficulties  overcome,  terrors  subdued,  magnitude 
grasped  ;  in  which  nothing  is  forced,  confused, 
overcharged.  He  instances  the  Laocoon  as  want- 
ing repose,  and  the  Ilaria  di  Caretto  of  Querela, 
in  Lucca  Cathedral,  as  an  example  of  it. 

(4)  Symmetry y  as  Type  of  Justice,  does  not 
consist  in  an  obvious  equality,  any  more  than  its 
moral  analogue  is  found  in  the  "  poetical  justice  " 
which  always  rewards  virtue  and  punishes  vice,  as 
at  the  end  of  an  old-fashioned  play ;  but  symmetry 
becomes  more  open  and  marked  in  proportion  as 
the  Art  becomes  more  definitely  religious.  In 
domestic  ornament  and  secular  Art  the  symmetry 
is  concealed,  but  when  the  decoration  is  that  of  a 
temple,  when  a  picture  represents  a  religious 
subject,  the  artist  instinctively  permits  his  sym- 
metry to  become  more  obvious.  The  hieratic 
arrangement,  for  example,  of  the  Madonna  dei 
Ansidei    would    be    out    of    place    without    the 


122  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

religious  feeling  ;  and  when  we  come  to  repre- 
sentations of  Heaven,  the  most  complete  and 
apparent  symmetry  seems  natural  and  necessary 
to  the  idea,  expressing  as  it  does  Divine  Justice 
made  manifest,  and  involving  the  added  feelings 
of  unity  and  repose.  It  might  be  added  that  the 
modern  admiration  of  Japanese  asymmetry  is 
curiously  characteristic  of  an  age  which  is  not  the 
age  of  faith. 

(5)  Purity,  as  Type  of  Energy,  is  the  result  of 
the  influence  of  light  and  life.  Animals  and 
plants  show  their  vigour  by  the  cleanness  of  their 
skin  or  surface,  which  disappears  with  disease  or 
death.  The  living  rock  and  living  water  are 
popular  expressions  to  indicate  purity  of  condition, 
and  energy  of  character  or  origin.  As  a  result  of 
light,  purity  is  seen  in  colour,  as  in  clear  atmo- 
sphere and  sunlit  sky  ;  and  the  combination  of  life 
and  light  is  seen  in  the  purity  of  the  hues  of 
spring,  which  are  by  no  means  painful  to  Mr. 
Ruskin,  as  they  seem  to  be  to  some  modern 
theorists  on  colour. 

(6)  Moderation,  as  Type  of  Law,  or  rather  of  the 
restraint  of  law,  issues  in  chasteness  and  refinement. 
Even  in  the  passing  fashions  of  mere  taste,  modera- 
tion is  believed  to  express  the  dignity  and  breeding 
of  the  wearer  or  user  of  articles  in  which  it  is 
shown.  With  refinement  are  connected  complete- 
ness and  finish — that  is  to  say,  restraint  upon  the 
violence  of  passion,  and  patient  continuance  in 
well-doing.  This  is  an  important  element  in 
Beauty,  both  in  Nature  and  Art.  Some  natural 
curves  and  colours  are  almost  invisible  to  untrained 


VII  Beauty  123 

perceptions,  they  are  so  delicate,  while  violence  of 
curve,  strong  contrasts  of  shadow,  crude  opposi- 
tions of  colours,  are  not  beautiful  though  they  may 
be  striking.  The  pictures  that  Ruskin  praises 
most  are  not  by  any  means  those  which  tell 
strongly  in  an  exhibition. 

57.  The  Theology  of  Beauty. — The  above  are 
only  some  of  the  sources  of  Beauty.  We  like 
Nature  and  Art  when  we  see  God  in  them,  how- 
ever dimly ;  working  in  them  and  through  them. 
The  law  of  Nature  is  loveliness  {M.  /*.,  vol.  v.  p. 
97),  Beauty  is  law  made  visible.  In  a  note  to  1883 
edition  Ruskin  gives  the  following  example  :  "  A 
wild  rose  is  pretty  because  it  has  concentric  petals 
[Unity  of  Origin]  ;  because  each  petal  is  bounded 
by  varying  curves  [Infinity]  ;  because  these  curves 
are  dual  and  symmetrically  opposed  [Symmetry] ; 
because  the  five  petals  are  bent  into  the  form  of  a 
cup,  which  gives  them  gradated  depth  of  shade 
[Infinity] ;  because  the  shade  as  well  as  the  light 
is  coloured  with  crimson  and  gold  [Purity] ;  and 
because  both  the  gold  and  the  crimson  are  used 
in  their  most  subtle  degrees  and  tints"  [Modera- 
tion].^ 

The  academic  Theory  of  beauty  made  it  out  to 
be  the  aim  of  the  Creator  in  creation,  not  His 
achievement  ;  as  though,  if  I  may  say  so,  He  did 
not  accomplish  in  the  present  work-a-day  world 
what  He  planned  in  the  beginning.  The  Rus- 
kinian  theory  finds  Beauty  in  Nature  as  we  see  it 
— in  all  things,  whether  in  growth,  in  maturity,  or 

^  The  words  in  brackets  are  mine.     I  desire  the  author's  pardon 
or  these  and  other  liberties  taken  with  his  style. 


124  Art-Teaching  of  Ru skin  chap. 

even  in  decay;  for  many  of  the  beauties  of  vegeta- 
tion are  in  the  bud  and  blossom  rather  than  in  the 
fruit,  while  those  of  mountain-form  are  the  results 
of  ruin  ordained  and  beneficent  And  this  is 
surely  a  more  accurate  and  a  nobler  view  of  the 
facts  ;  it  is  the  substitution  of  real  Beauty  for  a 
mistaken  Ideal ;  of  actual  for  fancied  perfection  of 
each  thing  in  its  kind.  It  is  the  analogue  of 
Christianity,  as  offering  to  each  and  all — in  spite 
of  shortcomings — individual  ideals  and  hopes  ; 
just  as  the  classical  theory  of  Academicism  was 
the  analogue  of  the  social  religion  and  morals  of 
Greece. 

On  the  other  hand,  Mr.  Ruskin's  theory  does 
not  seem  to  me  to  stand  or  fall  with  the  peculiar 
phase  of  religion  which  he  interweaves  with  it 
— the  Presbyterian  Evangelicalism,  whose  phrase- 
ology he  uses  and  tenets  he  illustrates  in  his  early 
period,  whenever  he  finds  an  opportunity.  The 
theory  of  Art  is  indeed  based  on  a  Theistic  philo- 
sophy, and  irreconcilable  with  Materialism  ;  and 
it  is  obviously  a  development  of  Christian  thought 
— not  of  Jewish  or  Greek.  But  it  is  no  more 
Presbyterian  than  Anglican,  no  more  Protestant 
than  Catholic,  in  its  thought ;  only  so  in  its 
language.  The  mere  fact  that  he  finds  earthly 
beauty  to  be  the  analogue  of  heavenly  glory, 
redeeming  the  world  by  its  presence  as  significant 
of  Divine  energy — a  thing  to  be  delighted  in,  and 
cultivated  as  an  end  in  itself  (so  far  as  anything  is 
in  this  world) — this  attitude  alone  cuts  him  off 
from  popular  theology  ;  it  is  one  of  the  things 
which  are  regretted  by  those  who  are  glad  to  find 


VII  Beauty  125 

a  philosopher  who  believes  in  a  God  and  quotes 
the  Bible  ;  that  is  to  say,  religious  natures  un- 
happily brought  up  under  the  influence  of  the 
iclaircissement — sceptics  themselves  in  their  habits 
of  thought,  materialists  in  effect,  and  never  able  to 
rise  to  the  standpoint  of  spiritual  thinking.  From 
such  persons  Ruskin  is  further  separated  by  the 
doctrines  of  inspiration,  which  we  have  yet  to 
examine  ;  they  find  him  a  traitor  to  their  creed 
and  an  enemy  to  their  religion,  because  he  holds 
completely  what  they  hold  only  speculatively  or 
conditionally,  the  immanence  of  God  in  Nature 
and  man. 

His  conception  of  Deity  is  not  that  of  any 
popular  sect  or  school.  His  analysis  of  beauty 
and  imagination  is  not  supported,  but  only  illus- 
trated, by  his  theological  analogues,  although  it  is 
based  upon  Theistic  principles,  as  he  says  plainly 
in  the  preface  to  the  edition  of  1883.  He 
attempts  first  to  explain  why  things  are  beautiful, 
by  scientific  analysis  ;  secondly,  to  suggest  reasons 
why  beauty  is  desirable,  by  theological  analogies. 

5  8.  Vital  Beauty. — So  far  we  have  been  illus- 
trating beauty  of  form  ;  it  remains  to  speak  of 
expression  as  manifest  in  animal  life  or  even  in 
the  life  of  plants,  which  seem  to  have  something 
of  a  sentient  existence  of  their  own.  This  is 
taken  under  three  heads — Relative  Vital  Beauty, 
the  Generic  Ideal,  and  the  Individual  Vital  Beauty 
of  Man. 

Relative  Vital  Beauty  means,  in  the  first  place, 
the  appearance  of  happiness  in  life  ;  and  of  this 
the    Theoria    (or    contemplative    faculty),    which 


126  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

apprehends  it,  is  akin  to  charity,  or  sympathy,  an 
unselfish  feeling  ;  not  utilitarian,  for  in  witnessing 
the  happiness  or  wellbeing  of  plants  and  animals 
in  their  free  spontaneous  existence,  we  do  not 
necessarily  consider  how  they  may  contribute  to 
our  ulterior  pleasure  or  use.  For  example,  we 
feel  a  natural  disgust  at  the  evidences  of  disease 
or  wounds ;  a  butcher's  shop  is  not  beautiful, 
however  useful,  or  associated  with  thoughts  of 
dinner,  because  our  delight  in  the  vital  Beauty  of 
animals  finds  no  place  there.  It  is  destroyed  also 
by  evidences  of  mechanism  and  considerations  of 
anatomy,  because  it  consists  in  our  regarding  the 
creatures  as  free  agents,  not  as  machines. 

In  the  next  place.  Relative  Vital  Beauty  is 
shown  in  the  appearance  of  moral  life — that  is, 
the  fitness  of  the  animals  for  their  especial  virtues ; 
and  of  this  the  Theoria  is  praise.  We  always  find 
slothfulness  to  be  ugly,  and  though  there  may 
be  points  of  typical  Beauty  apparent  in  slothful 
creatures,  their  expression  always  raises  disgust. 
Of  reptiles  and  insects  the  busiest  are  the  most 
beautiful ;  and  though  there  are  features  of  beauty 
in  everything  that  is  made,  those  of  expression 
are  dominant  in  our  minds  in  proportion  as  the 
creature  we  are  considering  is  capable  of  it. 

The  Generic  Ideal,  as  explained  by  Ruskin,  is 
different  from  that  of  the  Platonic  theory,  because 
it  is  not  a  mere  non-existent  invented  standard, 
but  actually  exemplifies  itself  in  individuals  which 
are  good  of  their  kind.  A  beautiful  horse  or 
dog  is  more  beautiful  than  any  archetypal  horse 
or   dog   that   you   can   invent.       The  use  of  the 


VII  Beauty  127 

imagination  is  to  recognise  in  the  individual  its 
fitness  for  its  function,  and  this  seems  to  differ  Httle 
from  the  last  sort  of  Beauty ;  it  is  the  reason 
why,  to  an  artist,  most  artificially-bred  varieties  are 
monstrosities. 

In  man  this  Generic  Ideal  (already  so  far 
removed  from  the  academic  meaning  of  the  term) 
is  further  differentiated  by  taking  into  consideration 
the  modifying  influences  of  individual  character. 
We  say  popularly  that  every  man  has  his  own 
ideals  ;  and  our  interest  in  humanity  depends  very 
greatly  on  the  fact  that  we  cannot  reduce  all  men 
to  one  standard — it  depends  upon  our  recognising 
a  different  standard  for  each  person.  And  thus, 
to  see  the  beauty  of  man  we  must  take  into  con- 
sideration not  merely  his  generalised  anatomy, 
but  the  character  of  his  soul  as  an  individual, 
and  as  writing  itself  upon  his  features  and  form, 
modified  as  they  are  by  intellect  and  morals. 
No  theory  of  Beauty  is  complete  which  does  not 
point  out  the  sources  of  Beauty  which  spring  from 
a  high  development  of  mind  and  lofty  ethical  life ; 
and  the  real  causes  of  ugliness  in  the  human 
countenance  are  usually  either  pride,  sensuality, 
fear,  or  cruelty,  the  results  of  which  vices,  whether 
as  evidences  of  character  or  as  survivals  of  inherit- 
ance, equally  destroy  the  Ideal  Beauty  of  man. 

59.  Ugliness,  Caricature,  and  the  Picturesque. 
— But  as  these  vices  exist  in  the  world,  and  as 
the  good  and  bad  of  it  are  so  inextricably  com- 
mingled. Art  with  all  its  powers  of  selection  is 
unable  to  present  unmixed  Beauty,  and  it  seems 
as  though  it  were   not   desirable   that   it   should 


128  Art-  Teaching  of  Rusk  in  chap. 

always  do  so,  for  that  would  be  at  the  expense  of 
Truth,  and  it  is  very  questionable  whether  any 
real  gain  would  accrue  to  the  spectator.  In  the 
first  place.  Beauty  is  not  good  as  the  exclusive  food 
for  the  mind  {M.  P.,  vol.  iv.  p.  133).  We  do  not 
find  people  benefited  by  being  brought  up  among 
exclusively  beautiful  surroundings.  In  the  next 
place,  the  value  of  Beauty  is  not  perceived  without 
some  foil  of  ugliness.  And  in  the  third  place, 
many  things  supposed  to  be  ugly  have  some 
qualities  of  Beauty  which  would  be  utterly  lost  if  we 
refused  to  depict  them  {M.  P.,  vol.  iii.  p.  35).  The 
desire  to  exclude  every  form  of  ugliness  throws 
us  back  upon  sensual  beauty  and  a  limited  range 
of  fleshly  art  {M.  P.,  vol.  iii.  p.  70),  or  else  upon  a 
vapid  and  empty  purism.  It  is  the  praise  of  the 
highest  Art  that  it  rises  above  evil  and  ugliness^ 
and  brings  to  light  beauties  unsuspected  and 
goodness  undiscerned  by  the  ordinary  spectator 
{M.  P.,  vol.  V.  p.  2 1  3);  while  it  is  the  condemnation 
of  the  baser  Renaissance  School  that  it  tries  to 
set  Beauty  above  Truth  {M.  P.,  vol.  iii.  p.  260). 

Great  Art  is  praise,  and  only  that  picture  is 
noble  which  is  painted  in  love  of  the  reality. 
The  best  is  that  which  best  represents  the  love. 
Our  love  is  often,  is  necessarily,  given  to 
imperfection  ;  and  it  is  expressed  no  less  by 
lament  for  the  loss  of  Beauty  than  by  gladness  in 
its  presence.  This  is  the  source  of  tragic  and 
pensive  Art  (Z.  F.,  chap.  i.  §  4). 

From  this  we  see  that  the  End  of  Art  is  not 
merely  the  representation  of  Beauty,  though  it  is 
the  expression  of  our  interest  in  it. 


VII 


Beauty  129 


And  this  leads  us  to  the  place  of  caricature, 
which  is  artistic  only  in  so  far  as  it  suggests  the 
conception  of  Beauty  of  which  it  exaggerates  the 
absence  {L.  F.,  chap.  i.  §  5).  But  caricature  is 
dangerous  to  Art,  and  a  perseverance  in  it  fatal. 
There  are,  however,  many  forms  of  noble  Art 
which  play  with  ugliness,  not  as  caricature,  but  as 
the  grotesque,  the  consideration  of  which  properly 
belongs  to  our  next  chapter  on  Imagination  ; 
and  the  picturesque,  which  Mr.  Ruskin  has  defined 
{S.  L.  -^.,  chap.  vi.  §  12)  as  Parasitical  Sublimity. 
By  this  I  understand  him  to  mean  the  introduction 
of  Nature's  freedom  and  infinitude  upon  a  work 
(originally)  of  Art ;  as,  for  example,  when  ivy 
grows  upon  a  ruin,  or  ferns  on  a  pigstye,  adding 
to  the  architecture  a  set  of  features  not  intended 
by  the  designer,  but  in  themselves  noble  ;  and 
also  giving  a  sense  of  struggle  with  Nature,  not 
always  involving  defeat  and  decay  :  as  a  mill  in 
a  ravine,  a  castle  on  a  cliff.  The  infinitude  of 
expanding  emotion,  the  struggle  for  life,  is  the 
sublime  element ;  but  it  was  not  intended  by  the 
architect,  nor  produced  by  his  design,  hence  called 
Parasitical. 

60.  Sublimity. — -We  have  noticed  (§§  16,  56) 
that  the  sublime  is  not  a  separate  and  distinct 
End  of  Art  from  the  beautiful  ;  that  it  arises  out 
of  one  of  the  elements  of  Beauty,  namely.  Infini- 
tude ;  and  that  it  is  only  a  kind  of  Beauty  in  its 
origin.  The  gradation  of  light  which  makes  the 
evening  sky  luminous — which  is  a  secret  of  its 
beauty — makes  it  also  sublime,  as  emphasising 
the    expression    of    infinitude.       The    boundless 

K 


130  Ari-Teaching  of  Ruskin      chap,  vu 

perspective  of  ocean  or  plain,  the  multitudinous 
detail  of  mountain  form,  the  "  infinite  "  curves  of 
springing  strength  in  vegetation  and  energetic 
action  in  the  human  figure,  are  all  conditions  of 
Beauty  becoming  sublime  by  preponderance  of 
that  one  element  of  infinity,  the  "  type  of  divine 
incomprehensibility,"  the  analogue  of  the  mystery 
of  the  powers  of  thought  and  will,  and  the  inscru- 
table forces  of  Nature.  But  here  we  enter  upon 
questions  that  we  have  not  yet  the  material  to 
discuss,  until  we  shall  have  heard  what  our  author 
has  to  say  upon  Imagination.  Well  and  wisely 
did  he  determine  in  refusing  system,  and  in  warn- 
ing his  readers  against  handbook  knowledge,  for 
all  the  truths  of  Art  are  many-sided,  and  can 
never  be  known  but  by  experience.  I  can 
imagine  his  smile  at  this  attempt  to  note  the 
nature  of  Beauty  in  a  chapter,  and  Sublimity  in 
a  paragraph. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

IMAGINATION 

6 1.  Ars  est  homo  additus  naturce. — In  our  last  con- 
siderations upon  the  subject  of  Beauty  we  found 
ourselves  drifting  away  from  the  terra  firma  of 
natural  facts.  We  saw  that  not  only  does  Art 
select  elements  of  Beauty  from  objects  which 
possess  many  other  attributes,  but  that  sometimes, 
for  the  sake  of  certain  beauties,  it  is  obliged  to 
represent  much  that  is  not  beautiful ;  and,  what 
is  still  more  puzzling,  it  seemed  as  though  its 
business  were  not,  after  all,  so  much  to  express 
Beauty  as  to  express  the  feelings  that  men  have 
toward  Beauty.  It  reads  at  first  sight  like  a 
paradox,  this  doctrine  that  Art  sometimes  is 
forced,  by  the  mere  love  of  Beauty,  into  repre- 
senting ugliness.  But  in  order  to  dissolve  the 
apparent  contradiction,  we  must  examine  the 
process  of  artistic  production  still  further. 

In  the  first  place,  we  must  give  up  the  idea 
of  defining  Art  as  the  expression  of  Truth  when 
Truth  is  beautiful,  or  Beauty  when  Beauty  is  true. 
That  would,  indeed,  be  a  premature  conclusion ; 
but  if  it  were  sufficient,  then  the  photograph  of  a 


132  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

charming  actress  would  fulfil  all  the  requirements 
of  great  Art. 

Why  is  it  that  photography  is  not  ranked  on 
equal  terms  with  the  highest  flights  of  painting? 
It  is  because,  as  we  said  before,  the  function  of  the 
painter  is  not  merely  to  present  you  with  a  scene, 
and  leave  you,  the  spectator,  to  find  your  own 
emotions  and  form  your  own  conclusions  ;  it  is 
his  business  to  stand — he  cannot  help  standing — 
as  an  interpreter  between  you  and  Nature  ;  and  his 
rank  and  value  will  rise  or  fall  in  proportion  as  he 
does  his  work  of  interpretation  well  or  neglects  it 

It  is  impossible  for  Art,  even  in  its  lowest 
developments,  in  its  most  mechanical  forms,  to 
evade  this  office  of  interpretation.  Its  lowest 
form,  perhaps,  is  photography,  in  which  the  choice 
of  subject,  the  area  of  vision,  the  moment  of 
action,  are  all  at  the  will  of  the  photographer.  It 
has  been  said  that  quotation  is  a  sort  of  literature, 
because  it  reveals  the  mind  in  its  choice  and 
admiration,  in  spite  of  a  want  of  originative  power. 
In  exactly  the  same  way  photography,  which  is  a 
quotation  of  Nature,  shows  more  than  the  manipu- 
lative skill  of  the  "artist,"  and  is  valued  for  .the  feel- 
ing and  judgment  displayed  in  selection  of  subject. 

This  absolute  necessity  makes  itself  felt  still 
more  in  the  humblest  forms  of  what  is  usually 
called  Realism.  The  painter,  perhaps,  has  not 
asked  himself,  consciously,  what  are  the  most 
important  truths,  but  he  has  given  those  which 
seem  to  him  the  most  important,  and  if  he  is  a 
person  of  very  commonplace  mind  they  will  be 
the  commonplace  truths. 


VIII  Imagination  133 

The  stronger  the  artist's  mind,  the  keener  his 
perceptions,  the  livelier  his  associative  faculty, — the 
higher  he  rises  in  the  scale  of  Idealism,  until  at 
last  we  find  artists  whose  mental  power  is  such 
that  they  see  in  things  that  seem  to  us  a  yellow 
primrose  and  nothing  more,  or  whatever  trivial 
object  they  may  contemplate,  all  manner  of 
beauties  which  we  had  not  noticed — parables  of 
deep  things,  and  analogies  of  divinity. 

To  Peter  Bell  and  critics  of  his  calibre,  no 
doubt  these  visions  seem  absurd  ;  and  they  are 
ready  to  argue  from  the  fact  that  in  many  cases 
this  imaginative  vision  is  mere  sham  and  affecta- 
tion, or  a  delusion,  to  the  hasty  conclusion  that  it  is 
so  in  every  case.  But  a  great  deal  of  Mr.  Ruskin's 
work  has  been  spent  in  asserting  his  conviction 
to  the  contrary.  His  analyses  of  the  subjects 
of  Turner  and  Tintoret,  and  other  artists  whom  he 
ranks  as  great  and  imaginative,  will  always  fail  to 
prove  his  point  to  readers  who  have  not  some- 
thing in  themselves  of  a  corresponding  power  of 
imagination.  We  cannot  raise  these  artists  from 
the  dead  to  ask  them  what  they  meant  by  their 
pictures  ;  and  even  where  we  have  the  opportunity 
of  making  some  such  inquiry  the  results  are  always 
disappointing,  because  a  great  imaginative  mind 
either  can't  or  won't  explain  itself  It  can't,  in 
most  cases,  because  the  imagination  depends  for  a 
great  part  of  its  power  upon  a  synthetic  habit  of 
mind,  and  would  be  destroyed  by  self- analysis. 
Perhaps  a  dim  consciousness  of  this  fact  is  the 
real  reason  why  it  won't.  I  am  quite  ready  to 
believe,   although    Mr.    Ruskin    says   there    is    no 


134  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

foundation  for  the  story,  that  Turner  did  disclaim 
the  deep  meanings  imputed  to  his  pictures  by  the 
author  of  Modern  Painters.  The  question  for  us 
is,  Are  the  meanings  there?  and  can  the  liveliest 
fancy  discover  as  many  and  as  consistent  in  the 
works  of  smaller  men  ? 

62.  Imagination  and  Truth. — The  work  of  the 
critic  is  to  discover  what  a  man  is  conscious  of  in 
what  he  sees  {A.  F.,  p.  263).  Painters  like  the 
Dutch  chiaroscurists  have  no  imagination,  and  not 
being  able  to  get  pleasure  out  of  their  thoughts, 
try  to  get  it  out  of  their  sensations  {A.  F.,  §  24) — 
that  is  to  say,  though  the  distinction  between 
higher  and  lower  forms  of  Idealism  is  only  one  of 
degree,  in  the  lower  forms  all  that  is  wanting  in 
thought  is  replaced  by  something  baser,  ./Esthesis 
takes  the  place  of  Theoria  and  practically  dethrones 
it ;  and,  similarly,  in  the  higher  forms  Theoria 
overrides  ^Esthesis.  In  the  world,  it  is  said,  there 
is  nothing  great  but  man,  in  man  there  is  nothing 
great  but  mind  ;  and  Art  is  great  in  proportion 
as  it  bears  witness  to  mind. 

This  position  is  drawn  out  in  the  chapter  on 
"  The  Dark  Mirror  "  {M.  P.,  vol.  v.  part  ix.),  in  which 
the  relativity  of  knowledge  is  used  as  an  argument 
for  proving  the  value  of  Imaginative  Art.  The 
higher  our  conceptions  reach,  the  more  subjective 
they  are  ;  our  highest  Ideals,  those  of  God,  are 
necessarily  the  work  of  imagination  in  its  noblest 
form.  No  man  has  seen  God  at  any  time  ;  so  that 
the  same  faculty  which  may  be  abused  to  create  a 
lie  must  be  used  to  discern  a  truth. 

Giving    this    broad     meaning     to    the    word, 


VIII 


Imagination  135 


Imagination  is  the  "Belief"  of  philosophers  like 
Jacobi ;  it  is  the  intuitive  grasp  of  universals.  In 
the  domain  of  Science  and  Philosophy,  Reason 
attempts  to  reach  these  altitudes.  In  religion 
and  Art  they  are  attained  by  Imagination,  which 
is  therefore  an  instrument  for  taking  hold  of  truth, 
and  it  is  brought  into  play  the  moment  we  leave 
the  ground  of  sense -perception,  and  seek  the 
universal  in  the  particular.  And  this  is  at  last 
the  real  point  of  divergence  between  Science  and 
Art,  for  Science  tries  to  see  the  particular  fact 
under  the  universal  law  by  the  help  of  Reason  ; 
Art  attempts  the  same  end  by  the  help  of 
Imagination.  And  here,  again,  we  find  the  deep 
distinction  between  Great  Art  and  Sham  Art,  for 
in  Great  Art  the  Imagination  tells  the  truth,  in 
Sham  Art  it  is  a  pretence  and  a  delusion. 

63.  Fancy. — In  his  earlier  writing  Mr.  Ruskin 
tried  to  make  this  the  distinction  between 
Imagination  and  Fancy ;  but  it  was  merely  a 
distinction  of  words,  so  far  as  the  use  of  the  term 
Fancy  went  to  denote  a  misleading  imagination  ; 
and  in  his  1883  preface  he  rightly  acknowledges  the 
error.  At  the  same  time  the  distinctions  he  draws 
{^M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  part  ii.)  between  his  examples  of 
Imaginative  Truth  and  Fanciful  Error  hold  good, 
and  though  the  greatest  men  occasionally  lapse 
from  the  clear  sight  of  Truth  (and  all  the  more  so 
because  Imagination  does  not  work  by  precept 
and  rule),  yet  there  is  a  broad  difference  between 
them  and  those  whose  conceptions  are  habitually 
fallacious  and  false.  According  to  earlier  theorists 
Imagination  is  a  very  simple  matter  ;  but  like  all 


136  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

these  subjects,  when  treated  with  the  desire  to 
understand  them  thoroughly,  and  not  to  rest  satis- 
fied with  an  epigrammatic  description  or  empty- 
formula,  it  appears  more  complicated  upon  further 
examination.  Mr.  Ruskin  does  not  exhaust  the 
subject,  as  he  candidly  confesses  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii. 
sec.  2,  chap,  i.),  but  he  sketches  the  chief  points  of 
it  in  his  triple  division — associative,  penetrative, 
and  contemplative. 

64.  Associative  Imagination. — What  is  usually 
called  by  ordinary  artists  and  critics  composition, 
is  the  arrangement  of  the  picture  ;  and  the 
academic  theorists,  who  for  definition  substituted 
epigram  and  for  law  substituted  rule,  seeing  that 
this  arrangement  was  subject  more  or  less  to  laws, 
hastily  assumed  that  they  could  formulate  rules 
by  which  it  could  be  managed  in  a  more  or  less 
mechanical  manner.  Ruskin,  on  the  other  hand, 
denies  that  the  great  artists  made  use  of  such  rules 
in  arranging  their  pictures  ;  and  holds  that  their 
power  of  composition  rests  on  an  intuitive  faculty, 
to  themselves  inexplicable,  which  he  calls  Associa- 
tive Imagination.  He  does  not  deny  that  even 
among  the  great  artists  some  deliberative  process 
was  at  times  gone  through  in  working  out  their 
first  conceptions,  nor  that  in  inferior  artists  this 
form  of  imagination  is  occasionally  present.  It  is 
a  matter  of  degree  ;  and  one  of  the  attributes  of 
genius  is  certainly  an  unusual  power  of  combina- 
tion, harmonious,  satisfying,  and  complete. 

Artificial  composition  is  purely  a  process  of 
deliberation  ;  it  is  a  slow  and  uncertain  process  ; 
it  proceeds   by  modifying  first   impressions,  and 


VIII  Imagination  137 

continually  recurs  to  rules  which  tend  to  reduce 
the  work  to  a  likeness  with  other  works  of  the 
same  nature,  ending  in  monotony  ;  and  it  leads  to 
the  mere  cumulation  of  picturesque  material, 
pleasing  no  doubt  to  the  uncultivated  spectator, 
but  without  artistic  value. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  imagination  of  genius 
is  intuitive,  swift,  decisive.  Second  thoughts  are  of 
little  use  to  it ;  rules  none  whatever.  It  may  be 
likened  to  chemical  combination,  as  contrasted 
with  mechanical  admixture,  which  the  other  pro- 
cess more  nearly  resembles. 

In  1845  Ruskin  believed  that  its  characteristic 
action  was  the  putting  together  of  parts  which  are 
inco7nplete  in  themselves  to  make  a  living  whole. 
In  1883  he  withdrew  that  part  of  the  doctrine, 
pointing  out  that  it  was  not  necessary  for  the 
parts  of  a  great  picture  to  be  unsatisfactory  when 
taken  separately,  but  this  modification  of  the 
doctrine  does  not  invalidate  the  distinction  which 
he  rightly  draws  between  imaginative  and  artificial 
composition. 

The  criterion  of  Associative  Imagination  is  the 
appearance  of  absolute  truth,  and  satisfaction  in 
the  result.  A  laboured  arrangement  is  either 
formal  or  ill  considered  ;  imaginative  composition 
has  seen  the  whole  subject  at  a  glance,  and  grasps 
its  unity. 

65.  Penetrative  Imagination. — It  is  not  only 
in  combining  simple  conceptions  that  the  Imagina- 
tion is  useful,  but  it  has  another  office,  namely, 
that  of  intuitively  discerning  or  divining  the 
fundamental  character  of  the  subject,  or  cause  of 


138  Art- Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

the  phenomenon,  which  would  not  be  attained  by 
process  of  reasoning,  or  attained  very  slowly. 
Hence  in  Science  and  History  it  is  rightly  held 
that  a  touch  of  Imagination  is  necessary  to  form 
great  theories.  The  discernment  of  genius,  its 
power  of  seeing  to  the  heart  of  things,  is  ordinarily 
recognised.  But  wet>ften  hesitate  to  call  this  by 
the  name  of  Imagination,  for  fear  of  a  certain 
taint  of  fallacy  which  clings  to  the  term  in  its 
popular  use. 

In  his  early  period  Ruskin  tried  to  distinguish 
true  insight  as  Imaginative,  calling  all  the  confused 
and  delusive  play  of  association  by  the  name  of 
Fancy,  but  this  distinction  he  abandoned  later  on 
as  merely  nominal,  and  in  his  Oxford  Lectures  oji 
Art,  shows  that  the  same  faculty  may  be  at  one 
time  misleading  and  at  another  time  the  instrument 
by  which  the  highest  truths  are  discerned. 

There  remains,  however,  a  true  and  valuable 
result  in  this, — that  those  universal  truths  which 
Science  and  Philosophy  win  by  tedious  induction 
are  grasped  in  Art  by  the  Penetrative  Imagination  ; 
and  that  it  is  hopeless  for  the  unimaginative 
painter  to  attain  the  same  result  by  laborious 
accretions  of  mere  external  and  accessory  illustra- 
tive material  around  his  subject. 

66.  Contemplative  Imagination. — Simple  con- 
ception or  the  image  of  things  seen  in  the  mind's 
eye  is  vague  and  shadowy  at  the  best,  but  with 
a  highly  developed  Imagination  these  vague  con- 
ceptions can  be  variously  joined  and  united  to 
others,  even  to  the  extent  of  losing  their  identity 
and  undergoing  transformations  which  are,  as  it 


VIII  Imagination  1 39 

were,  visible  metaphors.  We  see  this  often  in 
dreams.  The  great  artist  can  at  will,  and  in  his 
waking  moments,  compel  such  visions.  An  un- 
imaginative person  can  by  process  of  reasoning 
discover  the  likeness  of  one  concept  to  another — 
the  mental  process  which  in  words  becomes  simile. 
But  the  Imaginative  faculty  plays  with  its  ideas 
in  dream-like  transformation  scenes  ;  and  this  pro- 
cess, put  into  words,  is  the  metaphor  of  poetry. 

It  is  not  so  common  in  the  formative  arts, 
painting  and  sculpture  ;  and  yet  it  occurs  very 
frequently  under  two  conditions.  In  the  first 
place,  in  abstract  Art ;  that  is  to  say,  where  com- 
plete realism  of  simultaneous  form  and  colour  is 
not  attempted,  as  in  decorative  sculpture,  in 
ornament,  and  in  slight  line -sketching,  where 
suggested  resemblances  and  grotesque  likenesses 
become  possible.  All  this  is  the  work  of  Con- 
templative Imagination,  and  is  valuable  so  far  as 
the  suggestions  point  to  truths  associated  with 
the  subject.  It  is  seen  again  wherever  exaggera- 
tion is  permissible,  and  this  is  the  case  in  figure- 
sculpture,  where  limbs  or  features  are  over- 
drawn to  emphasise  character  ;  or  in  painting  on  a 
miniature  scale,  where  the  points  of  expression  are 
strengthened  to  make  them  visible;  or  again  in  land- 
scape, where  mountains  (for  example)  are  made 
taller  and  steeper  to  give  the  idea  of  altitude. 
Since  the  business  of  the  painter  is  to  interpret  the 
truth,  this  token  of  his  Imagination  is  right  and 
justifiable  so  long  as  it  expresses  truth.  It  is  very 
easy  to  discern  the  moment  when  we  pass  from 
the  work  of  such  an  one  to  the  futile  and  impotent 


1 40  A rt-  Teaching  of  Riiskin  chap 

vagaries  of  the  unimaginative  painter,  who  tries  to 
excite  us  with  grimace  instead  of  expression,  and 
obelisks  instead  of  mountains. 

67.  Grotesque. — In  a  note  to  M.  P.,  vol.  ii., 
written  in  1883,  the  author  remarks  that  he  fails 
so  far  to  explain  the  extent  to  which  Will  has 
power  over  Imagination.  He  has  assumed  that 
Imagination  means  the  healthy,  voluntary,  and 
necessary  action  of  the  highest  powers  of  mind  on 
subjects  properly  demanding  and  justifying  their 
exertion.  But  there  are  other  mental  states,  shown 
in  Art,  and  not  investigated  by  theorists.  The 
first  of  these  is  that  which  produces  the  Grotesque, 
a  subject  analysed  at  some  length  in  Stones  of 
Venice,  vol.  iii.  chap,  iii.,  and  continued  in  M.  P., 
vol.  iii.  chap.  viii. 

There  are  two  elements  usually  inseparable  in 
the  Grotesque  —  the  ludicrous  and  the  fearful. 
The  first  is  a  form  of  play  ;  and  when  employed 
by  a  powerful  and  pure  mind  with  very  little 
mingling  of  terror,  it  produces  forms  not  wholly 
beautiful  but  extremely  engaging,  such  as  Ariel, 
Titania,  and  Scott's  White  Lady  of  Avenel. 

The  greatest  men,  however,  use  this  form  of 
imaginative  sport  but  rarely,  for  their  Art  is 
serious  work,  and  by  no  means  mere  amusement. 
And  yet  they  are  fond  of  a  sort  of  oddness  in 
accessories, — quaint  arrangement,  strange  costume, 
which,  though  it  does  not  rise  into  prominence  as 
an  intrusive  comic  element,  is  distinctly  Grotesque. 
Indeed,  it  may  be  said  that  it  is  a  token  of  power 
and  grasp  when  a  man  can  afford  to  play  with 
the  subordinate  parts  of  a  serious  subject ;  and  it 


VIII  Imagination  141 

is  usually  from  a  want  of  Imagination  that  serious 
works  are  so  ponderously  serious  throughout. 

But  there  is  a  lower  class  of  good  artists  who 
cannot  produce  lofty  thought  and  high  ideal 
Beauty,  and  yet  have  a  healthy  feeling  for  the 
ludicrous.  In  ancient  Art,  where  such  men  were 
usually  employed  as  artificers  in  decoration  and 
allowed  free  play  for  their  own  devices,  little  tram- 
melled by  the  architect's  design,  they  produced  the 
Grotesques  of  Gothic  sculpture.  In  Modern  Art 
the  same  place  is  taken  by  caricature.  In  both 
cases,  the  delightfulness  of  the  Grotesque  consists 
greatly  in  the  candid  imperfection  which  shows  its 
origin — that  abstraction  of  sketchy  form  which  we 
noticed  just  now  as  a  condition  of  contemplative 
Imagination. 

There  is  a  third  class  of  sportive  Grotesque 
which  is  connected  with  inordinate  play,  a  want 
of  seriousness,  resulting  from  idleness  and  luxury. 
This  produces  the  nonsense  ornament  of  Roman 
Arabesque,  and  the  ugliness  and  profanity 
abundant  in  those  mockeries  of  classic  or  reli- 
gious ideals  which  deform  so  much  of  Renaissance 
decorative  Art. 

The  second  source  of  Grotesque  is,  fear.  Human 
awe  felt  in  the  presence  of  stupendous  Nature- 
powers  and  Divine  incomprehensibility  is  an 
element  in  the  sublime,  in  proportion  as  the  fear 
is  tempered  with  understanding  of  the  laws  of 
Nature  and  the  ways  of  God  (§  60).  But  when 
through  one  cause  or  another  the  terror  is  pre- 
dominant it  issues  in  Grotesque.  It  is  not  given 
to  all  or  to  any  at   all  times  to  face  the   great 


142  Art- Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

problems  and  mysteries  of  life  with  such  confidence 
as  to  discern  in  them  the  music  of  the  spheres. 
They  are  either  but  half  regarded  and  with  partial 
apathy,  or  viewed  in  defiant  mockery,  or  else 
revealed  as  a  terrific  dream  from  whose  fascina- 
tion there  is  no  escape. 

In  the  first  case,  when  placed  before  the  two 
chief  sources  of  mortal  fear, — death  and  sin,  the 
artist  may  not  be  equal  to  the  strain,  but  involun- 
tarily becomes  the  exponent  of  a  terror  which  he 
only  partly  feels  and  tries  to  evade.  This  state 
of  mind  does  not  rank  with  high  imaginative 
perception  :  there  is  no  grasp  in  it ;  but  it  leaves 
its  impress,  not  perhaps  easily  discernible,  in  a 
weirdness  of  treatment,  otherwise  unaccounted  for. 
And  of  this  also  there  is  an  imitation,  a  Sham 
Art,  in  the  unnecessary  ugliness  or  bestiality, 
coldly  conceived  and  unseasonably  applied,  of 
much  Renaissance  ornament. 

The  second  state  is  that  which  produces  the 
satirical  Grotesque,  the  spirit  of  defiant  mockery  : 
base  when  it  is  the  expression  of  cowardice  and 
vulgarity,  and  noble  in  proportion  as  it  rises  into 
a  militant  attitude  against  the  powers  of  evil,  as 
in  Dante's  Inferno,  in  the  Faery  Queen,  and  in 
many  of  Durer's  engravings. 

The  third  condition,  though  it  does  not  rise  to 
the  height  of  sublime  imagination,  is  a  step  beyond 
the  second.  It  is  when  great  truths  are  nearly 
within  grasp,  but  the  mind  is  too  weak,  the  under- 
standing too  narrow,  and  the  vision  too  distorted, 
to  lay  firm  hold  upon  them.  Such  are  those 
dreams    recorded    in    the    Bible    of   Joseph    and 


VIII 


Imagination  14^ 


Pharaoh,  and  some  of  the  strange  visions  of  the 
prophets.  Grotesques  of  this  sort  occur  in  the 
Greek  oracles,  in  ^schylus,  in  Dante  and  Shake- 
speare ;  and  the  same  kind  of  struggling,  almost- 
apprehending,  dream  gives  its  strangeness  to  the 
work  of  Tintoret  To  formal  critics  and  little 
minds  such  things  are  always  an  offence,  but  a 
"  fine  Grotesque  is  the  expression,  in  a  moment,  by 
a  series  of  symbols  thrown  together  in  bold  and 
fearless  connection,  of  truths  which  it  would  have 
taken  a  long  time  to  express  in  any  verbal  way  " 
{M.  P.,  vol.  iii.  p.  99). 

68.  Symbolism. — Symbolic  Art,  though  closely 
allied  with  the  Grotesque  in  its  last-mentioned 
and  noblest  forms,  is  not  identical  with  it.  The 
difference  is  that  the  Grotesque,  when  striving  to 
express  a  superhuman  ideal,  is  partially  inca- 
pacitated, through  terror,  from  seeing  the  beauty 
or  visible  law  in  its  subject ;  while  Symbolic  Art 
is  truly  imaginative — that  is  to  say,  it  does  not 
represent  the  nightmare  over  which  the  seer  has 
no  control,  but  the  conceptions  which  come  at  his 
call.  It  differs  on  the  one  hand  from  the  highest 
forms  of  Imaginative  Art  in  that  it  confesses  a 
limitation  in  the  artist's  powers.  This  limitation 
may  arise  either  from  want  of  mental  grasp  and 
insight,  by  which  the  artist  is  forced  to  use  attri- 
butes explanatory  of  his  subject  instead  of  telling 
his  whole  story  by  means  of  beauty  and  dignity 
and  expression  ;  or  else  it  may  arise  from  the  defi- 
ciencies of  his  material,  which  is  especially  the  case 
in  decorative  Art.  The  instance  given  {S.  F., 
vol.  iii.  chap,  iv.)  is  from  the  mosaics  of  St.  Mark's, 


144  Art- Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

Venice,  where  the  most  important  truths  charac- 
teristic of  the  olive-tree  are  noted,  in  spite  of  the 
impossibility  of  rendering  any  imitation  of  foliage. 
There  are,  therefore,  two  forms  of  Symbolism  ; 
the  one  expressing  abstract  ideas  by  means  of 
concrete  attributes,  as  in  ordinary  religious  subjects, 
the  eagle  of  St.  John,  the  lion  of  St.  Mark  ;  and 
the  other  is  the  use  of  form  not  accurately  repre- 
sentative to  suggest  truths  which  Art  cannot,  or 
at  that  time  and  in  those  hands  knows  not  how 
to  represent.  This  is  seen  in  landscape  otherwise 
realistic,  as  in  the  spiky  rays  from  the  sun  in  some 
of  the  pictures  of  the  Old  Masters  {M.  P.,  vol.  i. 
p.  2 1  o).  But  in  these  cases  there  is  a  want  of 
unity  between  the  realism  and  the  symbol  ;  and 
symbolic  Art  is  not  received  as  satisfactory  except 
when  the  whole  treatment  is  sketchy  or  abstract, 
as  in  decorative  Art  and  caricature  drawings 
{M.  P.,  vol.  iii.  chap,  viii.),  where  the  suggestiveness 
of  the  rest  of  the  design  bears  out  the  suggestive- 
ness of  the  symbol.  Blake's  Book  of  Job  is  better 
in  its  abstract  line  than  it  would  be  if  realised  in 
colour  ;  or  if  such  things  are  done  in  colour  they 
are  best  when  the  colour  is  purely  decorative  ;  as 
is  felt  in  works  of  abstract  mythology,  like  those 
of  Mr.  Burne -Jones.  In  Aratra  Pentelici,  lectures 
at  Oxford  in  1870  on  Greek  sculpture,  the  subject 
is  discussed  from  another  point  of  view.  It  is 
natural  to  men,  Mr.  Ruskin  says,  to  make  images 
to  play  with,  or  to  worship  ;  and  early  Art  is  the 
doll's  play  of  a  nation's  childhood.  Mere  and  base 
idolatry  worships  the  stone  fallen  from  Heaven, 
blindly  and  involuntarily,  a  form  of  Grotesque ; 


VIII  Imagination  145 

but  in  the  childhood  of  a  vigorous  nation  a  step 
beyond  this  is  taken — the  voluntary  and  intentional 
attempt  to  realise  its  ideas,  which,  as  we  have 
said,  is  the  work  of  imagination.  And  when  to 
these  mimetic  and  idolising  instincts  there  is 
added  the  desire  of  seeing  law,  of  grasping  the 
universal,  the  capacity  for  Great  Art  is  present 
{A.  P.,  §  41).  The  results  of  this  Great  Art  must 
not  be  confounded  with  the  lower  forms  of  idolatry  ; 
they  are  symbolic,  and  intended  to  lead  the 
spectator  to  contemplate  the  character  and  nature 
of  gods,  spirits,  abstract  virtues  and  powers,  not 
implying  the  actual  presence  of  such  beings  nor 
their  actual  possession  of  these  attributes  {A.  P., 
Lect.  iii.)  In  Greece  this  Art  culminated  in 
Pheidias ;  but  when  the  purely  religious  spirit 
was  superseded  by  inquiry  and  doubt,  the  most 
imaginative  minds  and  strongest  moral  characters 
find  themselves  face  to  face  with  insoluble  diffi- 
culties, and  fall  back  again  upon  Grotesque  of  the 
nobler  type.  In  what  is  called  the  modern  world 
this  is  shown  in  Holbein,  Diirer,  Shakespeare, 
Pope,  Goethe  {A.  P.,  Lect.  ii.),  so  that  the  high 
imaginative  and  anthropomorphic  ideal  gives  place 
again  to  the  Grotesque,  or  to  symbolism. 

Symbolism  by  many  critics  is  condemned  as 
unfit  subject  for  Art.  Ruskin  points  out  {M.  /*., 
vol.  iii.  chap,  viii.)  that  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  greatest 
and  most  popular  works  of  Art  are  for  the  most  part 
allegorical  and  symbolic  ;  and  he  adds  that,  to  the 
artist,  this  kind  of  work  is  welcome,  because  it 
permits  a  wide  range  of  incident  and  great  va-  ^ 
riety  of  treatment.     When  it  is  remembered  that 

L 


1 46  A  rt-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

symbolism  is  simply  an  expression  of  truth,  and 
of  those  truths  which  press  themselves  upon  the 
mind  at  the  time  as  the  most  important,  it  must 
be  felt  that  to  exclude  symbolism  from  Art  would 
very  literally  resemble  the  play  of  Hamlet  with  the 
ghost  left  out.  The  injunction  to  "  leave  mysticism 
and  symbolism "  of  T.  P.  (§  40)  refers  to  the 
manner  in  which  modern  decorators  may  revive 
Gothic  ornament.  It  is  not  a  general  maxim  of 
Art,  but  one  of  Mr.  Ruskin's  "  texts  in  context." 

69.  Inspiration. — We  have  now  reviewed  four 
states  of  mind  in  which  Art  may  be  approached 
by  man.  The  lowest  is  that  of  Peter  Bell,  the 
plain  man,  as  he  is  proud  to  call  himself,  who 
sees  and  represents  only  the  most  commonplace 
aspects  of  the  most  concrete  phenomena.  The 
second  is  that  of  the  sentimental  nature,  whose 
perceptions  are  warped  by  emotion  of  one  kind 
or  another,  into  the  lower  forms  of  Grotesque  and 
pathetic  fallacy.  The  third  is  that  in  which 
reason  and  emotion  are  balanced,  imagination  at 
command,  and  the  universal  fully  recognised  in  the 
particular.  The  last  state  is  that  in  which  even 
this  highest  kind  of  human  power  quails  before 
overwhelming  and  insoluble  mystery  {M.  P.,  vol. 
iii.  p.  163).  This  is  what  is  usually  called  inspira- 
tion, and  it  is  shown  in  Art  in  the  highest  types 
of  noble  Grotesque.  It  does  not  follow  that  this 
last  state  of  mind  is  the  best  and  most  useful  for 
men,  as  it  certainly  is  not  the  happiest,  nor  does 
its  presence  imply  moral  virtue,  for  Saul,  too,  was 
among  the  prophets  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  p.  1 3  3).  A  man 
may  be  a  prophet  without  being  a  saint ;  and  the 


VIII  Imagination  147 

truth  of  imaginative  power  is  not  invalidated  by- 
errors  in  the  Hves  of  great  poets  and  painters,  like 
Shakespeare  and  Turner. 

In  the  second  lecture  of  his  introductory  course 
at  Oxford,  Mr.  Ruskin  gives  the  final  form  to  his 
doctrine.  Imagination  is  the  result  of  the  influ- 
ence of  a  common  and  vital,  but  none  the  less 
Divine  spirit — a  phrase  which,  we  have  noted, 
has  a  very  Hegelian  ring.  Reiterating  his  earlier 
assertions,  he  says  that  everything  men  accom- 
plish rightly  is  done  by  Divine  help,  but  it  is  done 
under  a  consistent  law.  This  law  is  very  different 
from  the  artificial  rules  of  any  grand  style  ;  it 
does  not  tell  us  how  to  act,  how  to  mix  a  little 
of  one  quality  with  a  little  of  another,  to  put  in 
this  and  to  leave  out  that,  and  so  to  concoct  great 
works  ;  it  simply  states  the  circumstances  under 
which  great  work  is  done, — the  fact  that  spiritual 
life,  though  a  gift,  may  be  cultivated  ;  that  it 
shows  itself  in  many  various  and  unexpected  ways 
and  places ;  that  its  most  valuable  attainments 
are  not  involuntary,  but  can  be  summoned  by  the 
will ;  and  that  inspiration  is  simultaneously  a  re- 
sult of  human  effort  and  Divine  energy. 

Those  products  of  Art  which  we  call  inspired 
are  the  result  of  long  labour  and  study,  and  of 
feelings  common  to  all  humanity.  In  the  first 
place,  the  instinct  of  construction  and  melody, 
which  men  share  with  birds  and  bees ;  in  the 
next  place,  the  imaginative  faculty,  the  power  of 
dreaming,  in  its  best  and  healthiest  development, 
summoned  by  the  will — in  its  most  striking  de- 
velopment morbid,  or  resulting  from  a  weakness 


148  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin      chap,  vm 

of  mind,  and  creating  bad  work  as  often  as  good. 
It  is  just  the  same  power,  for  instance,  in  Durer 
that  produced  his  Knight  and  Death,  as  that 
which  suggested  others  of  his  works  which  seem 
to  be  so  much  ugliness  and  insanity.  The  third 
element  is  the  power  of  rational  inference,  and 
the  collection  of  laws  and  forms  of  Beauty  ;  and 
when  this  power  balances  the  imagination,  the 
greatest  and  healthiest  works  of  Art  are  produced. 
The  imagination  is,  therefore,  the  same  faculty, 
when  it  is  used  to  realise  falsehood  and  to  pander 
to  the  baser  idolatrous  forms  of  religion ;  and  when 
it  is  used  to  symbolise  truth,  of  which  the  best 
in  this  kind  are  but  shadows,  and  the  worst  are 
no  worse  if  the  imagination  amend  them.  In 
setting  up  a  claim  to  "  inspiration "  for  great 
artists,  Ruskin  is  not  in  any  sense  profane ;  it  is 
a  simple  statement  of  the  immanence  of  Deity  in 
the  human  soul.  But  it  is  a  use  of  language 
which  cannot  be  acceptable  to  the  popular  mind, 
nor  fit  in  with  ordinary  religious  views.  It  is, 
however,  in  perfect  harmony  with  philosophical 
thought ;  indeed,  it  is  only  a  somewhat  looser 
statement  of  the  conclusions  of  all  sincere  and 
thoroughgoing  philosophy.  Let  the  reader  once 
understand  that  Ruskin  is  not  a  preacher  gone 
wrong,  but  a  philosopher  going  right,  and  give 
himself  the  trouble  to  get  at  the  point  of  view  ; 
and  a  great  mass  of  petty  criticism  and  paltry 
difficulty  which  have  encumbered  and  obscured 
the  subject,  like  morning  mist  around  a  crag,  will 
melt  into  air,  and  leave  the  solid  thought  four- 
square to  all  the  winds  that  blow. 


CHAPTER    IX 

ART    AND    RELIGION 

70.  TJie  Hero  as  Artist. — In  his  lectures  on 
"  Heroes  and  Hero-worship "  no  notice  whatever 
is  taken  by  Carlyle  of  Art,  or  the  possibility  that 
Art  may  be  one  of  those  forms  of  divinely  ordered 
and  wisely  beneficent  energy  to  which  he  gives 
the  name  of  Heroism.  It  is  said  that  Carlyle  at 
one  time  thought  of  writing  on  Michelangelo, 
but  abandoned  the  iiltention  on  finding  that  it 
would  involve  some  knowledge  of  Art ;  and  this 
incident  curiously  indicates  the  wide  difference 
there  is  between  the  merely  ethical  philosophy  of 
Carlyle  and  the  much  wider  range  of  Ruskin. 
To  understand  life  in  all  its  bearings,  to  decipher 
completely  all  the  records  of  the  past,  to  diagnose 
the  present,  is  hardly  possible  without  taking  into 
consideration  the  indications  afforded  by  Art  of 
national  temper  and  tendency.  And  it  is  not 
only  as  a  symptom  that  Art  is  so  important ;  it 
is  also  to  a  great  extent  a  cause  of  the  health  or 
disease  of  the  human  spirit ;  hence  its  importance 
to  the  moral  philosopher. 

But  though  Ruskin  takes  a  wider  ground  than 


150  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

Carlyle,  his  attitude  and  principles  are  much  the 
same,  and  are  nowhere  more  distinctly  shown 
than  in  this  theory  of  inspiration  which  we  have 
just  reviewed.  It  is  opposed  on  the  one  hand  to 
the  ordinary  religious  view  which  would  confine 
the  spiritual  life  to  what  it  calls  spiritual  things, 
truth  to  tradition,  holiness  to  asceticism,  and  God 
to  Heaven.  It  is  opposed,  on  the  other  hand,  to 
the  view  of  sceptical  enlightenment,  which  confines 
truth  to  empirical  science,  morality  to  self-interest, 
and  religion  to  supposed  dark  ages  of  superstition. 
Ruskin  believes  in  the  omnipresence  of  Deity, 
and  a  continuity  of  revelation.  He  teaches  that 
all  good  and  perfect  work,  though  achieved  by 
man's  industry,  is  rendered  possible  by  the  fact 
that  man  partakes  of  absolute  spirit.  And  those 
whom  we  call  great  men  are  great  in  virtue  of 
a  higher  development  of  their  divine  gifts  or 
"  talents."  And  so  he  is  very  impatient  of  those 
critics  who  pretend  to  explain  greatness  as  an 
accidental  combination  of  favourable  circumstances, 
not  denying  such  facts,  but  considering  that  they 
are  not  sufficient  to  account  for  the  result.  His 
notion  of  a  great  artist  is  not  by  any  means 
conditioned  by  the  price  his  works  will  fetch, 
or  the  influence  he  may  be  shown  to  have  had 
upon  his  public.  He  looks  into  the  work  of 
any  man  for  those  three  qualities  which,  united, 
create  great  Art — Intellectual  capacity,  which 
contributes  Truth  ;  the  love  of  Law,  which  is  a 
condition  of  Beauty  ;  and  Reverence,  which  leads 
Imagination  aright.  When  these  three  powers  are 
found  in  high  development  the  artist  is  a  great 


IX  Art  and  Religion  151 

man,  and  stands  on  a  level  with  the  heroes  of  the 
earth. 

To  Mr.  Ruskin  Turner  was  a  hero  in  the  sense 
in  which  Cromwell  and  Napoleon  were  heroes  to 
Carlyle — as  a  man  with  a  mission,  with  greater 
powers  than  ordinary  mortals  ;  not  quite  ordinarily 
sane,  but  more  than  others  sincere  with  his  work  ; 
not  quite  what  is  called  moral  or  religious,  but 
showing  a  higher  standard  of  capacity  for  morality 
and  religion  than  the  petty  natures  who  lead 
puny  lives,  and  die  the  death  of  the  respectable. 

71.  Genius  and  Talent. — Etymologically  the 
Genius  is  the  daimon  or  indwelling  spirit  which 
is  not  man,  and  yet  identifies  itself  with  him, 
and  gives  him  some  portion  of  divine  power  and 
nature.  Reynolds  and  his  school  made  it  out  to 
be  merely  a  greater  brain-power ;  the  public  in 
general  holds  it  to  be  a  form  of  insanity — an 
unconscious  and  uncontrollable  capacity  for  doing 
that  which  the  normal  man  cannot  do,  and  does 
not  want  to  do.  Ruskin  considers  it  as  the 
manifestation  of  Deity  working  through  Inspira- 
tion, as  we  have  seen  ;  not  quite  out  of  the  range 
of  human  control,  for  the  spiritual  life  which  is 
produced  by  it  needs,  as  a  co-ordinate  factor, 
human  effort  and  persistent  will  for  good.  It 
need  not  always  result  in  great  things,  or  even  in 
good  things  ;  it  is  liable  to  every  form  of  neglect 
and  abuse  ;  but  it  is  just  as  really  and  truly  divine 
in  all  ages  and  in  all  persons,  and  attainable,  in 
some  form  and  power,  by  all. 

Talent  is  the  special  gift  for  certain  limited 
work — a  gift  of  God,  to  be  developed  by  man 


152  Art-  Teach ing  of  Ruskin  chap. 

on  the  analogy  of  the  parable  in  the  Gospels, 
whence  its  name.  When  genius  and  talent  coin- 
cide with  high  moral  conditions,  the  great  artist 
appears. 

In  Modern  Painters ,  vol.  iii.  chap,  iii.,  the 
author  gives  four  tokens  by  which  we  may  dis- 
cern this  greatness,  of  which,  and  other  means 
of  criticism,  we  must  treat,  later  on,  under  their 
proper  heading.  But  the  conclusion  there  obtained 
is  that  "  the  sum  of  all  these  powers  is  the  sum  of 
the  human  soul.  Hence  we  see  why  the  word 
'  Great '  is  used  of  this  Art."  "  Greatness  in  Art 
(as  assuredly  in  all  other  things,  but  more  dis- 
tinctly in  this  than  in  most  of  them)  is  not  a 
teachable  nor  gainable  thing,  but  the  expression 
of  the  mind  of  a  God-made  great  man  "  {M.  P., 
vol.  iii.  pp.  42,  147).  It  is  hardly  possible  for  the 
ordinary  spectator  at  an  exhibition  to  apply  these 
criteria  as  convenient  rules-of-thumb  for  judging 
the  works  of  Art  he  sees  on  the  walls.  It  is 
hardly  less  difficult  to  apply  them  in  the  case  of 
contemporary  artists  ;  just  as  we  cannot  measure 
the  altitude  of  a  mountain  from  one  observation 
taken  at  its  base.  It  is  only  from  a  certain  dis- 
tance that  we  see  how  the  central  peak  towers 
above  its  fellows  ;  and  though  these  criteria  may 
not  be  complete,  or  so  clearly  stated  as  their 
author  would  have  wished  in  his  later  period, 
they  indicate  the  point  of  view  which  he  has 
always  assumed,  or  endeavoured  to  assume — a 
point  from  which  things  appear  under  a  very 
different  aspect  from  that  they  present  to  the 
ordinary  critic.     But  surely  this  is  saying  no  more 


IX  Art  and  Religion  153 

than  that  the  philosophic  view  of  Hfe  is  always 
dififerent  from  the  vulgar  one. 

72.  The  Three  Uses  of  Art. — It  is  not  sur- 
prising, then,  that  Ruskin's  doctrine  of  the  use  of 
Art  is  as  far  removed  from  ordinary  notions  as 
his  teaching  about  its  purpose.  Art  as  an  elegant 
amusement.  Art  as  an  ingenious  trick,  Art  as  a 
form  of  commercial  manufacture.  Art  as  an 
emotional  intoxicant — with  all  these  he  has 
nothing  to  do. 

Its  end  or  purpose  we  have  seen  to  be  the 
unity  of  Truth,  Beauty,  and  Imagination  ;  its  use 
is  threefold.  First,  as  enforcing  religion  ;  second, 
as  perfecting  morality  ;  third,  in  material  services 
{L.  A.,  §  32) ;  and  these  three  uses  must  now  be 
further  considered  in  their  separate  details. 

First,  of  Religion  and  its  relation  to  Art.  We 
have  seen  that  all  Great  Art  has  a  connection  with 
Religion  in  the  manner  of  its  production ;  the 
Inspiration  of  it  is  parallel  with  any  other  form 
of  Divine  Inspiration — no  matter  whether  its 
subject  be  obviously  religious  or  not.  A  great 
landscape  reveals  Truth  and  Beauty  through  the 
imaginative  vision  of  the  artist,  and  a  revelation 
of  that  kind  is  in  its  way  a  lesson  from  the  story- 
book of  Nature.  But  while  all  Great  Art  is  thus 
a  form  of  revelation,  that  which  is  especially  called 
Religious  Art  deals  with  the  conceptions  given  to 
men,  or  formed  by  them  of  their  highest  ideals 
— of  spiritual  powers  ;  of  God,  and  man's  relation 
to  God. 

73.  Art  as  viewed  by  Religion. — It  is  by  no 
means  universally  accepted  by  religious  people  of 


154  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

any  creed  that  Art  has  a  high  office  or  function. 
But  that  is  a  matter  which  depends  upon  their 
acquaintance  with  its  work  and  influence  in  ages 
different  from  ours.  Nowadays  it  is  quite  true 
that  Religion  can  do  very  well  without  Art,  or 
thinks  so,  and  people  who  have  no  strong  imagina- 
tion or  love  of  beauty — belonging  to  that  first 
class  of  which  we  spoke  above,  that  calls  itself 
plain — are  very  ready  to  find  reasons  against  the 
connection  of  Art  with  Religion.  Its  theoretic 
parallelism  they  suppose  to  be  a  transcendental 
fallacy,  and  its  practical  affiliation  they  look  upon 
as  dangerous.  There  are  many  religious  men 
who  think  all  Art  is  a  thing  to  be  shunned  ;  they 
represent  the  great  sect  of  the  Ascetics,  whom  we 
have  always  with  us. 

There  is  another  great  sect — eternally  the  same 
in  temper,  though  varying  from  time  to  time  in 
the  catchwords  and  fashions  it  adopts — of  people 
who  are  swayed  by  the  feelings  of  sense,  equally 
sincere  with  the  former,  but  equally  narrow — the 
.-(Esthetic  sect,  and  by  these  Religion  is  used 
chiefly  as  means  of  emotion,  and  Art  is  readily 
adopted  as  the  strongest  provocative.  Both  these 
parties  are  wanting  in  completeness  of  grasp  and 
clearness  of  vision.  Mr.  Ruskin  belongs  neither 
to  the  Ascetic  side  nor  to  the  .Esthetic,  though 
he  has  affinities  with  both,  in  virtue  of  which  he 
has  been  claimed  by  both  in  alternation. 

He  began  as  an  Evangelical  Protestant,  whose 
interest  in  Art  was  primarily  for  the  sake  of  land- 
scape, which  is  to  the  believer  in  Divine  Creation 
a  quasi-religious  Art.      Later  on    he  was  led    to 


IX  Art  and  Religion  155 

appreciate  the  religious  painters  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  and  in  the  second  volume  of  Modern 
Painters  he  tried  to  state  a  theory  of  Art  of 
which  the  subject  should  be  supplied  by  the  Chris- 
tianity of  the  times  when  there  was  no  distinction 
between  Protestant  and  Roman  Catholic,  and  the 
terms  of  it  given  by  the  theology  he  knew  as 
orthodox.  Later  on,  discouraged  by  the  failure  of 
Protestantism  in  its  dealings  with  social  problems, 
he  seems  to  have  lapsed  from  any  definite  creed, 
and  to  have  taken  refuge  in  a  generous  morality. 
But  before  the  time  of  his  Oxford  Professorship 
the  examination  of  Greek  Art,  strange  as  it  may 
seem,  led  him  back  (as  I  understand)  to  a  belief 
in  spiritual  power  ;  and  the  evidences  of  belief  in 
others — for  there  is  nothing  more  contagious  than 
Faith — have  gradually  restored  him  to  his  own 
earlier  attitude  toward  Christianity ;  not,  however, 
to  the  narrow  and  insular  dogmas  of  his  childhood, 
but  to  a  catholic  religion,  neither  Romanist  nor 
Protestant — none  the  less  Christian,  and  none  the 
less  founded  on  Faith. 

And  so  in  reading  what  he  has  written  upon 
the  connection  of  Art  with  Religion,  we  must  bear 
in  mind  the  attitude  in  which,  from  time  to  time, 
he  looks  at  his  subject  In  his  early  period  the 
best  he  can  say  of  much  Religious  Art  is  that  it 
is  beautiful  and  true  only  relatively,  as  expressing 
the  sincerity  and  the  good  intentions  and  the 
saving  graces  of  men  belonging  to  an  alien  creed  ; 
but  as  he  goes  on  he  grows  into  more  sympathy 
with  them,  and  judges  both  their  virtues  and  their 
defects  more  justly. 


156  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

74.  TJic  Influence  of  Religion  upon  Art. — Apart 
from  its  claims  to  absolute  truth,  Religion,  of  what- 
ever sort,  means  the  love,  reverence,  and  dread  of 
man's  conceptions  of  spiritual  being  ;  thus  opposed 
to  morality,  which  is  the  law  of  conduct  (L.  A.,  § 
37).  When  we  recollect  the  meanings  we  have 
successively  attached  to  Truth,  Beauty,  and 
Imagination,  we  cannot  fail  to  see  that  the 
highest  reach  of  every  one  of  them  necessarily 
touches  Religion.  The  highest  Truth  attainable 
by  man  at  any  given  time  is  what  he  believes  to 
be  the  word  of  God  ;  the  highest  Beauty  is  what 
he  believes  to  be  the  work  of  God  ;  and  his 
highest  Imaginations  are  of  the  attributes  with 
which  he  invests  his  conception  of  God. 

Whence  it  follows  that  Art  in  which  these 
three  are  manifested  is  an  index  of  the  reach  of 
religious  attainment ;  an  index,  however,  which 
needs  very  careful  reading.  For  we  must  watch 
not  only  the  height,  so  to  speak,  of  the  mercury  in 
the  barometer,  but  we  must  see  whether  it  is  going 
up  or  down,  and  how  rapidly. 

In  the  rise  of  Art  Religion  is  its  great  stimu- 
lant ;  the  Art  of  early  nations  is  always  an  attempt 
to  realise  their  highest,  that  is,  their  religious  ideals. 
Such  Art  is  vital  and  great  in  proportion  to  the 
vitality  and  greatness  of  the  religious  conceptions 
which  influence  it.  The  two  greatest  manifesta- 
tions of  Art  that  the  world  has  seen  are  those 
which  occurred  during  the  rise  of  the  Greek  spirit 
out  of  scattered  and  semi-barbarous  elements  into 
its  Pan-Hellenic  splendour  ;  and  the  parallel  rise 
of  the  completed  Christian  spirit  out  of  the  similar 


IX  Art  and  Religion  157 

semi -barbarism  of  Europe  in  the  age  preceding 
the  Renaissance,  and  culminating  in  the  beginning 
of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  peculiar  spirit  of 
Greece  was  humanity,  and  we  find  that  the  pro- 
gress of  Greek  Art,  as  actuated  by  the  aims  of 
Greek  religion,  consisted  in  the  replacing  of 
monstrous  conceptions  of  Deity  by  human  ideals 
— by  anthropomorphism.  The  peculiar  spirit  of 
Christianity  is  its  comparative  depreciation  of 
humanity,  the  mortification  of  the  flesh,  the  con- 
science of  original  sin  ;  and  we  therefore  find 
that  the  growth  of  Christian  Art  tends  to  replace 
anthropomorphism  by  symbolism  borrowed  from 
external  nature  as  the  work  of  God.  The  Bible, 
unlike  classic  authors,  abounds  in  imagery  taken 
from  landscape  and  animal  life  (Z.  A.  P.,  Lect.  iii.), 
beginning  with  the  Garden  of  Eden  and  ending 
with  the  Apocalyptic  River  and  Tree  of  Life. 
And  all  distinctively  Christian  Art  is  marked  off 
broadly  from  that  of  other  ancient  religions  by  its 
perpetual  recurrence  to  the  forms  of  Nature  ;  its 
decoration  is  based  on  the  flower  and  the  leaf, 
unlike  the  worm -twist  of  Teutonic  Paganism 
and  the  conventional  patterns  of  classic  design. 
Animal  life  appears  in  fuller  variety,  and  the 
human  form  is  no  longer,  so  to  speak,  the  only 
subject  of  the  composition,  but  a  mere  figure  in 
the  landscape  ;  for  example,  the  most  genuine 
religious  painters  of  the  great  Christian  time  are 
known  by  their  steep  mountain  backgrounds,  while 
those  who  subordinate  Religion  to  Art  in  the 
Renaissance  parade  their  classical  feeling  with 
architectural  perspective  {M.  P.,  vol.  iv.  chap,  xx.) 


158  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

It  may  be  objected  to  these  very  broad  views 
that  Oriental  Art,  especially  the  more  modern 
Japanese,  has  shown  some  feeling  and  power  in 
representations  of  Nature,  decoratively  treated. 
This  question  Ruskin  has  not  touched,  though 
recent  investigation  has  shown  the  debt  of  China 
and  Japan  to  western  civilisation  in  circumstances 
sometimes  very  surprising  ;  and  the  broad  distinc- 
tion remains  that  while  Greek  religion  raised  the 
conception  of  Deity  from  monstrosity  to  humanity 
pure  and  simple,  the  Christian  religion  was  the 
first  to  extend  it  so  as  to  embrace  all  Nature, 
not  excluding  the  human  form  ;  and  finally  to 
develop  those  schools  of  landscape  which  have 
been  quite  without  parallel  elsewhere.  Their  final 
development  is  owing  to  those  movements  which 
simultaneously  produced  Natural  Science ;  their 
first  beginning  is  in  Christian  Religious  Art. 

But  it  is  only  in  the  earlier  and  more  vigorous 
periods  that  Art  attempts  to  realise  the  ideals  of 
Religion  with  sincerity.  A  time  comes  when  belief 
begins  to  decline,  leaving  for  the  moment  Art  in 
its  full  development.  Thrown  on  its  own  resources, 
it  finds  that  the  religious  ideal  once  realised  no 
longer  offers  stimulus  ;  it  must  either  go  on 
repeating  that  ideal,  or  else  it  must  seek  fresh 
material. 

75.  Religious  Art. — It  is  then  that  we  get  to 
the  differentiation  of  Religious  Art  from  profane. 
There  is  no  such  distinction  in  earlier  times.  Now- 
adays Gothic  architecture  is  supposed  to  have  a 
sort  of  sacred ness,  but  in  the  Gothic  age  domestic 
architecture  too  was  Gothic.     The  ornament  which 


IX  Art  and  Religion  159 

to  us  connotes  the  traditions  of  religion  was  natural 
and  universal  once  on  a  time  ;  and  the'  Classic 
Art,  which  ever  since  the  Renaissance  has  been 
used  to  suggest  the  splendour  and  sensuality  of 
the  luxurious  Roman  decadence,  was,  in  the  age 
when  it  was  great  and  vital  Art,  the  symbolism  of 
a  religion  only  less  pure  and  true  than  Christianity 
— immeasurably  above  the  vicious  and  barbarous 
cults  of  outworn  Egypt  and  degraded  Phoenicia. 

And  so  we  have  come  to  possess  two  sorts  of 
Art,  as  we  think — Religious  Art,  the  galvanised 
corpse  of  Gothic  Christianity  ;  and  profane  Art,  the 
disinterred  dry  bones  of  Greek  religion,  long  since 
dead  and  buried.  And  what  is  called  High  Art 
has  been  by  turns  one  or  another  of  these  remains, 
or  an  attempt  at  eclectic  admixture  of  both. 

There  has  in  modern  times  been  some  revival 
of  Religious  Art,  not  without  sincerity  and  not 
without  a  portion  of  its  antique  power,  in  the 
works  of  Mr.  Holman  Hunt  and  other  painters  of 
a  similar  temper.  The  success  of  such  revivals 
depends  only  in  part  upon  the  artist ;  it  depends 
far  more  upon  the  public  for  whom  he  paints, 
Ruskin  in  his  moods  points  to  the  many  and  too 
obvious  evidences  of  unbelief  in  the  spirit  of  our 
age,  which  tend  to  make  all  Religious  Art,  what 
most  of  it  is,  a  hypocrisy.  But  when  we  recollect 
the  vicissitudes  of  history  we  dare  not  foretell  the 
impossibility  of  a  return  of  belief  after  an  age  of 
eclipse,  though  we  cannot  know  what  form  it  may 
take.  Meanwhile  the  reception  of  even  a  few  true 
works  in  the  old  spirit  should  remind  us  of  the 
vitality  of  Religion,  whether  we  triumph  over  the 


i6o  Art-Teaching  of  Rtiskin  chap. 

downfall  of  what  we  think  to  be  superstition,  or 
whether  we  lament  at  the  disappearance  of  what 
we  trust  to  be  Faith, 

Carlyle  says,  in  the  beginning  of  his  lectures 
on  Heroes,  that  the  vital  fact  about  every  man 
is  his  religion.  The  vital  fact  about  Art  is  its 
religion  ;  not  the  pretence  it  makes  to  illustrate 
any  given  creed,  but  the  revelation  of  its  ideals 
by  what  it  does  and  leaves  undone.  Though 
mediaeval  beliefs  have  passed  away,  we  are  not 
without  a  creed  whose  pure  religion  and  undefiled 
is  not  shown  in  stained  windows  to  the  memory 
of  our  friends,  nor  in  ornament  to  make  our 
churches  pretty.  It  is  not  proved  by  the  attempt 
to  realise  and  justify  old  legends  that  we  feel  to 
be  slipping  from  our  grasp,  or  by  the  effort  to 
reanimate  a  jaded  fancy  and  effete  emotion  by 
still  more  vivid  presentations  of  martyrdoms  and 
Madonnas.  Wherever  the  religious  ideal  is  in 
advance  of  the  artistic  capacity,  there  Art  is  vital  ; 
when  the  reverse  is  the  case  it  is  vicious  and 
decadent,  and  though  some  sporadic  survival  may 
be  traced,  the  Religious  Art  of  the  early  Christian 
age,  as  a  thing  of  popular  vitality,  is  gone  for 
ever. 

In  what  form  the  next  manifestation  of 
Religious  Art  may  arise  will  depend  entirely 
upon  the  form  which  religion  itself  takes  as  a 
generally  accepted  and  sincerely  believed  popular 
ideal.  For  the  present,  looking  at  Art  not  merely 
as  painting  and  sculpture,  but  in  its  broader  aspect, 
as  all  work  stating  truth  and  adorning  use,  Ruskin 
points  out,  again  and  again  in  his  later  teaching. 


IX  Art  and  Religion  i6i 

that  the  first  step,  and  the  only  step  possible  at 
present,  is  to  realise  our  ideals  of  duty  to  our 
neighbours.  Our  present  most  emphatic  belief — 
the  religion,  as  Carlyle  would  call  it,  of  our  most 
sincere  minds — is,  in  our  duty  to  our  neighbour, 
an  extension  of  that  humanism  about  which  there 
has  been  so  much  talk,  speculatively,  since  the 
Renaissance,  and  in  which  there  has  been  not  a 
little  advance — the  extension  of  those  blessings  of 
life  which  have  been  hitherto  in  the  hands  of  the 
few  to  the  suffering  humanity  which  we  are 
beginning  to  perceive  around  us.  It  is  a  new 
Revelation  this,  as  new  as  that  which  gave  the 
Greeks  their  conception  of  God  in  the  human 
form,  and  the  Medisevals  theirs  of  God  in  His 
Creation.  We  now  are  beginning  to  recognise 
God  in  "  the  least  of  these  our  brethren,"  and  our 
first  step  to  a  true  religious  art  will  be  to  feed 
and  clothe  His  image,  to  open  the  door  to  Him 
that  He  may  dwell  with  us  ;  and  when  we  have 
realised  this  ideal  of  Love  it  will  be  time  to  busy 
ourselves  with  whatever  "  higher "  ideals,  as  we 
may  call  them,  shall  be  opened  out  to  us  {L.  A., 
§  Ii6;  A  P.,  §30). 

y6.  The  Service  of  Art  to  Religion. — The 
common  saying  that  "  Art  is  the  handmaid  of 
Religion  "  can  now  be  understood  with  due  quali- 
fications. In  its  early  days,  and  wherever  vital 
Religion  exists  in  sufficient  force  to  form  a  public, 
Art  enforces  Religion  by  realising  its  beliefs  and 
by  localising  them.  To  get  before  one's  eyes 
something  that  fixes  one's  idea  of  spiritual  power 
and   presence  is  always  a   help   to  the  sincerely 

M 


1 6 2  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

believing  mind.  The  works  of  great  Religious 
Art  have  never  been  objects  of  worship  in  the 
sense  in  which  the  stone  fallen  from  Heaven  was 
worshipped  by  the  Ephesians  and  the  Arabians  of 
Mecca,  or  even  in  the  sense  in  which  the  poorest 
daub  of  an  Icon  or  the  coarsest  tinsel -draped 
Madonna  have  been  adored  by  Russian  or  Latin 
peasantry.  In  those  great  works  the  imagination 
has  always  taken  a  definitely  symbolic  form,  which 
appeals  less  to  the  senses  than  to  the  intellect 
(S.  v.,  vol.  ii.  chap,  iv.)  Giorgione's  great  Madonna 
is,  indeed,  an  attempt  to  realise  a  Religious  Ideal, 
but  as  an  allegory  (5.  K,  vol.  iii.  C.F.)  It  is  no 
more  offered  as  a  fact  than  Bunyan's  Pilgrim's 
Progress^  but  it  states  Religious  Truth,  as  under- 
stood at  the  time,  as  Bunyan  does,  in  a  similitude. 

But  the  moment  that  Reason  and  Faith  begin 
to  find  themselves  at  variance,  the  vitality  of 
Religion  is  at  an  end.  Art,  then,  has  a  power 
of  keeping  awake  and  enforcing  the  fading  belief, 
but  in  doing  so  it  appeals  only  to  the  weak,  for 
to  all  sturdy  minds  the  picture  and  the  dogma 
simultaneously  become  shams. 

In  the  same  way,  so  long  as  it  is  really 
accepted  that  God  inhabits  dwellings  made  with 
hands,  it  is  right  and  proper  to  adorn  them  with 
all  the  seven  lamps  of  architecture ;  but  when 
that  belief  gives  place  to  wider  beliefs,  when  it  is 
understood  that  the  Heaven  is  His  throne,  and 
the  earth  is  His  footstool,  and  that  if  He  has  a 
Temple  it  is  in  the  heart  of  the  believer,  then  the 
whole  ground  and  reason  for  this  mediaeval  art  of 
Symbolism    disappears,   and    the    great    religious 


IX  Art  and  Religion  163 

works  of  former  time,  valuable  as  they  are  as 
memorials  of  the  faith  of  our  forefathers,  are  no 
longer  to  us  what  they  were  to  them  ;  when  we 
imitate  them  it  is  with  ineptitude,  and  when  we 
"  restore  "  them  we  are  replacing  a  noble  relic  by 
something  that  is,  from  the  point  of  view  both  of 
Religion  and  Art,  a  shallow  mockery.  We  cannot 
now  believe  that  God  is  in  the  Parish  Church  and 
not  among  His  people,  that  we  ought  to  make  it 
pretty  for  Him,  and  at  the  same  time  leave  the 
cottages  around  it  in  material  squalor  and  spiritual 
darkness.  To  understand  the  Art  of  the  past  and 
to  recover  the  spirit  of  the  past,  we  must  begin  as 
the  men  of  the  past  began,  with  sincerity  and 
truth,  or  else  we  sink  into  the  mere  Pharisaism 
of  modern  -Esthetic  Religion,  upon  which  our 
nineteenth -century  prophet  denounces  woe  no 
less  than  upon  the  Sadduceeism  of  sceptical  en- 
lightenment. 

yj.  Religion  and  Artists, — So  far  we  have  con- 
sidered the  relations  of  Religion  and  Art  in  their 
broad  aspects,  treating  the  individual  artist  as  a 
mere  involuntary  supplier  of  a  public  demand,  or 
rather  exponent  of  public  ideals.  This  indeed  he 
is,  though  he  has  his  own  view  of  his  own  case, 
and  is  sometimes  but  very  indirectly  the  mouth- 
piece of  his  age.  Many  men  afterwards  considered 
representative  figures  have  been,  for  all  they  knew, 
solitary  voices  in  the  wilderness,  "  fighting  for  their 
own  hand,"  not  consciously  in  touch  with  their 
neighbours.  It  may  be  asked.  Do  the  laws  which 
apply  to  great  movements  of  society  at  large  apply 
also  to  the  individual  worker  ? 


164  Art -Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

In  some  respects  the  same  laws  do  apply  ;  the 
Sham  Religious  Art  which  is  produced  merely  by 
recipe,  however  cleverly  done,  must  sooner  or  later 
fail  to  satisfy  the  more  serious  and  earnest  of  the 
religious  public.  For  example,  the  admirers  of 
Dora's  religious  pictures  are  either  the  less  sincerely 
religious,  or  the  less  thoughtfully  critical  of  the 
public.  It  soon  becomes  evident  that  the  illus- 
trator of  the  Contes  Drolatiqties,  though  extremely 
clever  and  in  many  respects  truly  imaginative, 
gives  only  the  most  superficial  and  theatrical 
versions  of  sacred  subjects.  He  is  hardly  an 
adequate  exponent  of  deep  religious  feeling. 

And  yet  it  will  be  said  that  there  are  other 
artists  who  seem  to  satisfy  the  requirements  of  the 
religious  ideal,  whose  lives,  however,  have  shown 
that  they  did  not  experience  religion  in  any  deep 
manner.  But  such  a  remark  involves  a  confusion 
from  which  Ruskin's  definition  of  religion  given 
above  ought  to  guard  us — the  confusion  between 
religion  and  morality.  It  is  true  that  religion 
ought  to  lead  to  morality,  but  it  is  not  the  same 
thing.  A  man  may  deeply  feel  and  magnificently 
realise  the  ideals  of  religion,  and  yet,  owing  to  his 
artistic  nature,  be  subject  to  moral  perturbation 
and  temptations  of  passion  of  which  the  plain  man 
knows  little.  Byron  and  Burns  reiterate  in  their 
letters  their  religi6us  emotions,  and  they  have 
grandly  illustrated  religious  ideals  in  their  art ;  but 
they — neither  of  them — were  moral,  and  for  the 
purposes  of  Art  the  first  and  most  important  re- 
quirement was  that  they  should  feel  and  see  those 
ideals. 


IX  Art  and  Religion  165 

When,  however,  we  find  a  man  like  Fra  Angelico, 
who  was  at  the  same  time  a  saint  and  an  artist, 
we  get  a  rare  phenomenon  ;  something  so  out  of 
the  common  that  we  are  tempted  to  set  a  higher 
value  on  his  art  than  we  ought — not  for  its  sake, 
but  for  his.  And  although  in  his  earlier  period 
Ruskin  contrasts  the  work  of  Angelico  with  that 
of  profane  painters  and  imitators,  showing  how,  on 
his  own  ground,  he  is  supreme,  in  the  later  period 
he  finds  that  ground  to  be  narrow.  The  Angeli- 
can  ideal  is  not  Art  of  the  highest  type.  It  is  full 
of  omissions  and  shortcomings,  though  sincere  and 
true  as  far  as  it  goes. 

The  greatest  Art  is  the  work  of  good  but  not 
distinctively  religious  men  (Z.  A.^  §  48).  Living 
in  those  transition  periods  at  the  zenith  of  national 
power,  when  early  simplicity  was  beginning  to  give 
way  to  the  confusion  and  scepticism  of  decadence, 
they  were  generally  men  who  had  too  much  ima- 
gination to  be  irreligious,  but  too  great  a  scope  to 
subscribe  in  full  sincerity  to  beliefs  which  the  spirit 
of  their  time  was  beginning  to  find  too  narrow. 
Such  beliefs  they  could  sympathise  with  and 
illustrate,  though  they  saw  beyond  them ;  and 
their  wider  range  gave  them  an  imaginative  power 
over  their  subject  which  the  more  reverent  and 
timid  temper  of  the  earlier  time  failed  to  attain. 


CHAPTER    X 

ART  AND  MORALITY 

78.  Ethical  Laws  and  Practical  Rules. — "  Good," 
as  we  commonly  use  the  word,  is  a  relative  term  ; 
it  means  nothing,  unless  you  can  answer  the  ques- 
tion "Good  for  what}'*  Some  things  may  be 
good  for  certain  ends  ;  but  those  ends  may  be 
mistaken.  Now  Art  is  not  the  exclusive  posses- 
sion of  any  narrow  community ;  though  varying 
in  completion  it  is  universal  in  essence.  What  is 
good  for  Great  Art  should  be  found  good  for 
humanity  in  general,  as  viewed  from  the  highest 
standpoint  of  all-embracing  thought.  And  the 
virtue  of  an  artist  as  an  artist  should  be  the  virtue 
of  a  man  as  a  man — not  as  a  member  of  some 
clique,  or  sect,  or  village  community. 

In  little  societies  of  that  kind.  Rules  of  conduct 
enjoy  their  highest  power  and  honour ;  rules 
chiefly  negative,  hedging  the  average  man  from 
average  error,  and  pointing  him  along  the  path  of 
decency  to  a  commonplace  and  not  unattainable 
fold  of  "  respectability  " — that  is  what  is  commonly 
called  morality.  It  is  quite  external ;  it  demands 
conformity  to  use  and  custom  ;  it  shuts  its  eyes  to 


CHAP.  X  Art  and  Morality  167 

the  more  unpleasant  facts  of  nature  and  the  most 
pressing  needs  of  man.  It  is  to  true  Moral  Philo- 
sophy what  old  Academicism  with  its  foolish  rules 
was  to  the  Philosophy  of  Art. 

What  we  want  to  know  is  the  Law  of  conduct 
(§  33);  the  natural  and  necessary  conditions  of 
human  character  and  action  ;  and  these  conditions 
are  various,  not  only  of  the  mind,  but  of  the  body 
also.  All  the  powers  and  faculties  are  included 
in  them  ;  all  instincts  and  attributes,  from  the 
highest  conceptions  down  to  the  lowest  appetites. 
Ethic  is  the  science  of  human  will,  that  is,  of  the 
whole  man  considered  as  acting. 

If  Art  were  a  mere  matter  of  craftsmanship,  of 
dexterity,  of  imitation,  of  ingenuity,  we  should  not 
need  to  draw  Ethics  so  definitely  into  the  question. 
That  Art  would  be  great  which  was  clever  ;  though, 
even  then,  cleverness  is  the  fruit  of  ethical  condi- 
tions ;  somebody  must  be  good  before  anybody 
can  be  clever.  But  we  have  seen  that  the  Art 
which  is  generally  allowed  to  be  greatest  holds  its 
place  in  virtue  of  something  more  than  cleverness 
— in  virtue,  namely,  of  Imagination  ;  and  is  only 
great  in  expressing  the  whole  sum  of  human 
powers  (§  70) — the  whole  man  considered  as 
acting.  It  expresses  Ideals,  which  are  in 
Ethics,  Standards  ;  in  Art,  Types.  Thus  Art  and 
Morality  are  very  closely  interwoven  and  inter- 
dependent. 

The  Imagination  as  above  described  is  the 
great  motive  power ;  it  brings  before  the  man  his 
reasons  for  action.  For  example,  people  are  not 
heartless  in  the  face  of  visible  suffering,  they  are 


1 68  Art -Teaching  of  Ruski7i  chap. 

only  heartless  when  the  object  of  their  charity  is 
both  out  of  sight  and  out  of  mind.  The  more 
imagination  brings  the  object  of  sympathy  before 
the  mind,  the  greater  the  charity.  To  all  other 
virtues  in  the  same  manner  Imagination  is  the 
leader  and  guide  ;  without  it  Morality  is  low,  with 
it  Morality  is  high — and  as  the  greatness  of  Art 
depends  chiefly  upon  Imagination,  the  connection 
of  Art  with  Morality  is  thus  defined.  (On  the 
whole  subject  read  6".  F.,  vol.  iii.  chap,  iv.,  and  L.  A., 
Lect.  iii.) 

79.  The  Effect  of  Art  upon  the  Artist. — It  is  a 
common  reproach  that  artists  are  immoral ;  and, 
judged  by  the  standard  of  customary  social 
morality,  no  doubt  they  often  fall  short  in  this,  as 
in  the  ordinary  requirements  of  religion.  It  is  a 
point,  however,  which  could  only  be  decided  by 
statistics ;  and  meanwhile  a  very  large  number 
of  artists  could  be  pointed  out,  everywhere  and  at 
all  times,  as  exemplary  and  respectable  citizens. 
When  you  come  to  know  a  number  of  artists  per- 
sonally, you  find  that  they  do  not  differ  in  point  of 
morals  from  the  same  number  of  other  people. 
Their  vices  and  virtues  are  those  of  their  epoch  ; 
although  the  interest  taken  by  the  public  in  their 
personality  turns  upon  them  a  fierce  light  which 
throws  the  shadows  of  their  character  into  strong 
relief.  There  are  saints  and  sinners  in  all  classes  ; 
and  the  percentage  of  ordinary  virtue  among  artists 
is,  at  a  rough  guess,  much  the  same  as  in  the 
world  at  large. 

But  if  we  ask,  "  What  is  the  Morality,  in  its 
broader  sense,  of  great  artists  ?     What  is  the  sum 


X  Art  and  Morality  169 

of  their  capabilities  and  energies?"  we  shall  find 
that  it  must  necessarily  be  high.  The  powers  that 
are  required  and  developed  by  Art  are  all  the 
nobler  instincts  and  purer  (that  is,  less  selfish) 
emotions  and  finer  susceptibilities.  We  cannot 
make  ourselves  good  by  painting  and  singing, 
but  we  cannot  paint  or  sing  nobly  unless  we  have 
the  capacity  for  goodness.  And  Art  tends  to 
enhance  that  capacity.  The  love  of  Beauty  is  a 
good  thing,  an  evidence  of  a  capacity  for  virtue  ; 
although  it  may  survive  the  loss  of  Morality,  it 
cannot  survive  it  for  long.  Imagination  may  be 
abused,  but  it  is  a  condition  of  high'  Morality.  It 
is  impossible  for  a  dissipated  mind  to  exert  the 
faculty  of  composition,  which  is  the  distinctive 
gift  of  the  greater  artists.  But,  as  we  have  seen, 
the  most  striking  manifestations  of  Art  have 
occurred  at  the  turning-point  from  severe  early 
religion  and  morals  to  unbelief  and  luxury  ;  when 
the  other  evidences  of  pristine  power  have  gone. 
Art  for  a  time  .still  flourishes  as  the  evidence  of 
former  conditions.  And  if  this  be  true  in  the 
histery  of  nations,  it  is  true  also  in  the  history  of 
individuals  ;  so  far  as  we  know  the  lives  of  great 
artists,  they  have  been  brought  up  in  piety  and 
virtue,  and  their  total  capacity  has  been  the  gift 
partly  of  heredity,  partly  of  early  training. 
When  they  have  given  way  to  passion,  they  have 
died  young,  or  painted  ill  when  they  became  old. 
The  common  talk  about  the  irregularities  of  genius 
applies  merely  to  genius  of  a  second-rate  and 
abortive  kind.  A  clear  head,  a  keen  eye,  and  a 
steady  hand  are  the  marks  of  genius  ;  they  can 


1 70  A rt'  Teaching  of  Rtiskin  chap. 

only  be  gained  and  preserved  by  self-command 
and  unremitting  industry.  There  can  be  nothing 
more  foolish  than  the  notion  which  some  Art 
students  share,  with  all  the  rest  of  the  quartier 
Latin,  that  excess  in  youth  will  fit  them  for  suc- 
ceeding in  age. 

80.  The  Effect  of  the  Artist's  Morality  on  his 
Art. — If  we  understand  by  Morality  something 
more  than  observance  of  social  rules,  we  cannot 
fail  to  see  that  it  has  a  very  strong  influence  on 
Art,  as  upon  every  other  activity  of  human  life. 
The  two  main  instincts  of  justice  (or  order)  and 
love  (or  sympathy),  to  which  all  other  virtues  may 
be  reduced,  manifest  themselves  in  Art  at  every 
turn.  The  whole  of  Beauty  depends  upon  the 
perception  of  law  or  order  (§  57).  The  whole 
capacity  for  Truth  depends  upon  sympathy  with 
Nature  and  man,  and  its  accompanying  insight ; 
the  most  discriminative  portrait  -  painters,  like 
Velasquez  and  Reynolds,  have  been  the  sweetest 
and  kindest  of  men  {T.  P.,  §§  64,  65). 

When  we  take  the  various  virtues  of  Art  in 
detail,  we  find  that  they  depend  upon  general 
virtues.  Delicacy,  for  example,  is  nothing  else 
but  the  evidence  of  a  fine  organisation,  without 
which  high  Morality  is  impossible.  Power  is  the 
evidence  of  the  artist's  strength,  whether  for  pro- 
longed or  sudden  exertion  ;  like  delicacy,  it  may 
be  affected — the  hypocrisy  of  Art  is  as  practicable 
as  the  hypocrisy  of  ethics,  but  such  results  are  as 
valueless.  Colour  can  only  be  rightly  perceived 
by  a  healthy  eye  ;  it  is  always  a  sign  of  morbid 
condition     when     colour     becomes    despised     or 


X  Art  and  Morality  171 

misconceived — colour,  that  is,  of  true  and  delicate 
quality,  neither  gaudy  nor  funereal.  It  is  among 
the  early  religious  painters  that  colour  is  carried  to 
its  highest  pitch  ;  and  the  disappearance  of  the 
colour  faculty  in  artists  who  have  once  possessed 
it  is  always  a  sign  of  morbid  change  or  unhappy 
circumstances.  "  Typical  Beauty,"  as  seen  in  Art, 
illustrates  the  argument. 

A  great  artist  may  break  some  of  those  com- 
mandments most  held  in  esteem  by  society,  but 
he  cannot  be  really  vain  or  selfish  ;  for  his  power 
of  work  depends  upon  calm  of  mind,  and  cannot 
be  carried  on  in  the  midst  of  the  restlessness  and 
mean  anxieties  which  are  caused  by  vanity  and 
selfishness.  Again,  since  the  highest  qualities  of 
the  mind  are  needed  to  paint  great  pictures.  Art 
of  this  kind  is  impossible  to  a  shallow  or  petty 
person  ;  and  finally,  since  Truth  and  Imagination 
demand  above  all  things  sincerity,  no  false  or 
mean  man  can  be  a  great  artist  {M.  P.,  vol.  v.  p. 
1 96).  Turner  was  not  a  mean  man  ;  he  exacted 
what  was  due  to  him,  but  his  secret  benevolence 
was  great  (Z.  A.  P.,  §  105). 

In  Morality,  as  in  Imagination,  the  artist  is  not 
conscious  of  the  laws  which  condition  his  life  and 
work.  It  is  not  true  unselfishness,  true  sincerity, 
that  is  produced  by  rule  ;  the  disposition  must  be 
there  ;  and  just  as  in  daily  life  we  see  a  man's 
character  showing  through  all  he  does,  so  in  Art. 
Personal  Morality  in  its  broad  sense  implies  char- 
acter, which  no  education  and  no  resolution  can 
wholly  change  or  efficiently  control.  This  doctrine 
is  one  about  which  Ruskin  has  never  altered  his 


172  Art-  Teach ing  of  Ruskin  chap. 

mind — the  necessity  of  a  high  Morality  for  the 
production  of  great  Art ;  a  noble  nature  shown  in 
that  "  incorruptible  and  earnest  pride  which  no 
applause,  no  reprobation,  can  blind  to  its  short- 
comings or  beguile  of  its  hope  "  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  p. 
3,  and  note  of  1883).  Great  Art  requires  a  mind 
and  body  perfected  by  heredity  and  practice  ;  and 
is  inconsistent  with  mean  anxiety,  gnawing  lust, 
wretched  spite,  or  remorse  or  bad  conscience 
(Z.  ^.,§71). 

81.  Art  for  Art's  Sake. — A  doctrine  which  has 
been  energetically  preached  in  modem  times  is 
that  Art  forms  a  world  by  itself,  and  must  be 
taken  entirely  on  its  own  ground,  cultivated  for 
its  own  sake.  This  doctrine  arises  from  a  reaction 
against  the  notion  that  Art  is  the  handmaid  of 
Religion — a  notion  which  we  have  already  seen 
to  be  an  error.  It  does  not,  however,  follow  that 
the  contradictory  of  an  error  is  by  any  means  the 
whole  truth,  and  while  we  freely  admit  that  the 
purpose  of  Art  is  not  to  bolster  up  the  Ideals  of 
Religion  nor  to  illustrate  its  precepts,  we  cannot 
but  feel  that  the  connection  between  Art  and 
Religion  is  a  historical  fact.  So  also  is  the  con- 
nection between  Art  and  Morality.  It  is  simply 
a  matter  of  fact  that  the  kind  of  Art  which 
Ruskin  calls  great,  that  is  to  say,  the  early  work 
of  Greece  as  far  as  Pheidias,  Florentine  painting 
and  sculpture  from  Giotto  to  Michelangelo, 
Venetian  to  Tintoret,  with  certain  others  such  as 
Correggio,  Velasquez,  Vandyck,  and  Reynolds,  and 
the  best  English  landscapists — all  these  are  the 
outcome,  not  of  any  trick  or  secret  of  manufacture. 


X  Art  and  Morality  173 

but  of  national  and  individual  powers  identical 
with  those  which  produced  national  and  individual 
morality. 

Another  reason  for  the  doctrine  of  "Art  for 
Art's  sake "  is  equally  grounded  on  fact :  the 
denial  that  greatness  in  Art  depends  on  "  literary 
subject,"  and  the  assertion  of  the  importance  of 
the  handicraft  element.  Though  Ruskin  in  his 
earlier  years  was  less  clear  about  this  than  in  his 
later  period,  and  his  language  has  been  miscon- 
strued and  misused  by  the  upholders  of  the 
"  literary  subject "  and  moral  mission  of  Art,  he 
has  always  been  aware  of  a  deeper  truth  than 
those  who  fancied  they  were  supporting  or  with- 
standing him.  Looking  at  Art  as  a  philosopher, 
and  not  as  a  mere  critic,  he  has  seen  its  broad 
relations  with  human  life ;  and,  complicated  as 
they  are,  he  has  to  a  certain  extent  disentangled 
them.  It  would  be  impossible  here  to  follow  him 
into  all  the  detailed  analyses  of  signs  and  tokens 
by  which  Morality  finds  its  analogue  and  exposi- 
tion in  Art ;  it  must  be  enough  to  state  the  result 
at  which  he  has  arrived — a  statement  which  must 
be  kept  clearly  in  view  in  reading  his  works 
— namely,  that  Art  is  the  reflex  and  manifesta- 
tion of  human  character,  and  that  by  its  vivid 
appeal  to  the  imagination  it  tends  to  fix  and 
develop  the  character  both  of  the  artist  and  his 
public. 

82.  Didactic  Art. — It  is  in  this  connection  that 
he  says,  "  All  good  Art  is  more  or  less  didactic  " 
{Academy  Notes,  vol.  vi.,  1875,  p.  8,  and  A.  P.,^ 
142).     It  would  not  be  a  right  use  of  this  saying  if 


1 74  -^ ^^-  Teachmg  of  Ruskin  chap. 

we  were  to  make  it  mean  that  it  is  the  purpose  or 
End  of  Art  to  teach  definite  lessons  of  morality  or 
religion  ;  it  says  no  more  than  that  you  do  learn 
good  lessons  from  good  Art,  and  bad  lessons  from 
bad  Art ;  and  that  the  Art  from  which  no  lessons 
are  learnt  is  Sham  Art.  The  greater  part  of 
modern  Art  is  so  derivative  and  confused  in  aim 
that  nothing  can  be  gathered  from  it  except  the 
story  of  the  artist's  irresolution  and  incompetence 
— incompetence  as  an  intellectual  and  moral 
being,  however  dexterous  he  may  have  been  as  a 
painter.  But  while  the  great  man  is  unconscious 
of  his  mission  and  careless  of  didactic  purpose, 
the  mere  fact  that  he  ranks  higher  than  others — 
has  keener  insight  and  stronger  sympathy,  and 
more  complete  power  of  expression — makes  him 
necessarily  the  exponent  of  moral  law.  His  mere 
choice  of  subject,  his  omissions,  his  accessories,  are 
all  significant ;  and  they  become  more  significant 
when  the  spectator  is  himself  well  informed  and 
observant. 

But  special  teaching  is  not  the  purpose  of  Art. 
"  It  is  much  easier  to  be  didactic  than  to  be  lovely  " 
{Academy  Notes,  vol.  iv.,  1 85 8,  p.  1 4),  and  the  exalt- 
ation of  one  of  the  qualities  into  the  essence  leads 
to  nothing  but  confusion.  If  it  were  the  purpose 
of  Art  to  be  didactic,  the  clumsiest  woodcut  in  a 
child's  "  goody-book  "  ought  to  be  ranked  higher 
than  Titian's  Bacchus  or  Correggio's  Venus — the 
pictures  which  Mr.  Ruskin  says  in  one  place  (on 
"  The  Study  of  Architecture,"  Old  Road,  vol.  i.)  are 
the  last  he  would  part  with  out  of  our  National 
Gallery ;    for  they  are    the    evidence    of   powers 


X  Art  and  Morality  175 

gained  by  ages  of  previous  courage,  continence, 
and  religion,  not  intentionally  didactic,  but  the  fruit 
of  highly  developed  moral  capabilities. 

83.  The  Effect  of  Art  on  Public  Morals. — It 
does  not  follow  that  such  pictures  have  a  good 
influence  on  every  mind.  The  mere  fact  that 
they  are  evidence  of  a  wide  range  of  sympathies, 
from  high  intellectual  grasp  to  naive  physical 
instinct,  shows  that  they  contain  qualities  calcu- 
lated to  appeal  to  a  wide  range  of  perceptions. 
The  thinker  finds  thought  in  them  ;  the  voluptuary 
finds  piquancy  in  them  ;  and,  if  it  be  only  to  the 
pure  that  all  things  are  pure,  it  is  only  to  the 
depraved  that  all  things  are  immoral.  It  does 
not  prove  the  immorality  of  the  painter  or  his 
picture  when  the  prurient  critic  detects  a  point 
for  cavil  in  the  midst  of  appeals  to  his  higher 
nature ;  it  suffices  for  the  candid  inquirer  that 
those  higher  appeals  are  there. 

By  such  appeals  as  these  "  Art  perfects 
Morality " ;  it  sets  the  ideal  clearly  before  the 
mind  ;  it  fixes  the  standard  ;  and  the  lesson  so 
given  reacts  upon  the  public  in  proportion  as  the 
public  has  already  attained  the  ethical  condition 
in  which  it  is  capable  of  receiving  the  lesson. 
Upon  a  nation  whose  morals  are  degraded  teaching 
of  the  highest  class  is  thrown  away ;  and  what- 
ever of  childlike  shamelessness  or  manly  self- 
revelation  may  be  mingled  with  the  pure  moral,  is 
at  once  seized  as  material  for  vicious  suggestion. 
But  where  general  morality  is  high  the  lesson  is 
learnt  in  all  its  nobility  ;  the  ideals  of  the  public 
are  found  reflected  in  the  picture,  and  strengthened 


176  A  rt-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

by  the  very  statement  of  them ;  whoever  recognises 
great  Art  is  exalted  by  it  (Z.  A.,%  33). 

84.  The  Effect  of  Public  Morality  on  Art. — 
Thus  it  is  that  the  state  of  public  Morality  can  be 
tested  by  the  Art  which  is  received  as  popular. 
Where  nothing  but  trivial  subjects  commands 
attention — where  comedy  of  the  lightest  or  rank 
buffoonery  is  alone  appreciated — you  can  hardly 
expect  deep  seriousness,  gravity,  and  reverence  to 
be  the  tone  of  public  feeling.  Art  may,  then,  be 
a  relaxation  from  the  whirl  of  business  or  pleasure ; 
but  it  is  the  token  of  recklessness  and  levity,  with 
their  concomitant  strife  and  despair.  Where  Art 
tends  to  sensuality  it  is  evidence  of  luxury  ;  where 
it  strives  after  sensationalism  it  argues  a  low  sensi- 
bility in  those  to  whom  it  appeals.  And  similarly, 
if  we  find  a  public  honestly  enjoying  work  which 
cannot  be  honestly  enjoyed  without  high  moral 
faculties,  we  can  conclude  that  such  a  public 
possesses  those  faculties.  It  is  not  difficult  to 
discriminate  popularity  from  the  artificial  vogue 
of  connoisseurship,  though  the  mere  production 
does  not  always  prove  a  very  wide  area  of  appre- 
ciation. Sometimes  an  artist's  public  is  very 
small ;  sometimes  it  is  limited  to  himself 

But  the  mere  fact  of  production  proves  that 
the  ethical  standard  does  exist  in  that  age  and 
nation.  It  may  not  be  at  once  recognised  in  a 
given  artist's  work  ;  but  in  order  to  form  him,  it 
must  be  there — possessed  by  the  society  from 
which  he  sprang.  The  Art-capacity  is  not  a 
sudden,  isolated,  capriciously-bestowed  gift  from 
Heaven — inspiration  though  it  be  ;  it  is  only  the 


X  Art  and  Morality  177 

completer  development  of  common  endowments 
{L.  A.,  §  44)  bestowed  by  God  and  utilised  by- 
man.  And  when  we  find  Great  Art  arising  in 
any  society,  whether  at  once  accepted  by  that 
society  or  not,  it  proves  that  there  are  elements 
of  strength  and  purity,  of  refinement  and  self- 
control,  already  pre-existing,  however  mixed  with 
failings  and  follies.  In  that  rare  phenomenon,  an 
age  of  sincerity  and  moral  up-striving,  the  connec- 
tion of  Art  with  Ethics  is  obvious  enough.  But 
there  are  periods  when  it  is  less  easy  to  trace  ; 
periods  of  comparative  barbarism  and  periods  of 
decadence.  In  the  growth  of  national  power, 
virtue  is  growing  too  ;  ideals  are  forming  ;  stand- 
ards are  being  raised  ;  and  in  spite  of  surround- 
ing barbarism,  here  and  there  you  find  a  centre 
from  which  the  newer  and  higher  morality  radiates. 
In  those  centres  we  may  look  for  the  dawn  of 
coming  Art,  Again,  in  the  decay  of  national 
power,  the  earlier  ideals,  old-fashioned  purity  and 
pristine  strength,  survive  in  sheltered  spots  ;  from 
whence  spring  artists  inheriting  the  capacities  of  a 
past  age, — the  capacities  which  may  be  used  or 
abused  by  the  public  for  whom  they  work.  It  is 
not  wholly  in  an  artist's  power  to  direct  his  labour  ; 
he  may  have  a  choice  of  possible  subjects  and 
modes  of  treatment,  but  the  list  from  which  he 
can  choose,  so  to  speak,  is  drawn  up  by  the  public, 
and  sanctioned  by  its  patronage  with  the  stern 
command,  "  Do  this,  or  starve." 

And  so  the  refined  sensibility  which  is  the  fruit 
of  ancestral  self-control  may  be  abused  to  produce 
incentives  to  sensuality  ;  the  faculty  of  penetrative 

N 


178  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

observation  which  is  the  result  of  long-established 
loyalty  to  truth  may  find  itself  needed  for  nothing 
but  caricature ;  the  fancy  bred  of  thought  and 
meditation  may  be  spent  on  the  foolish  adornments 
of  luxury  and  idleness.  But  the  nobility  and 
genuineness  of  the  capacities  were  none  the  less 
begotten  by  noble  and  genuine  habits  of  life  to 
begin  with.  That  is  to  say,  they  are  distinctly 
an  affair  of  Ethics  ;  the  artist's  powers  are  deter- 
mined by  ethical  laws ;  and  the  public  demand, 
which  those  powers  are  used  to  supply,  is  also  a 
product  of  Morality. 

There  is  a  curious  analogy  traced  by  Ruskin 
between  the  character  of  Decorative  Art  and  that 
of  nations  which  produce  it  {T.  P.,  Lect.  i.),  where 
he  discusses  the  beautiful  and  interesting  Oriental 
ornament  produced  by  semi-barbarous,  cruel,  and 
licentious  races,  and  seeming  to  contradict  our  law 
of  Morality  in  Art.  He  points  out  that,  beautiful 
as  these  conventional  designs  are,  they  do  not 
come  up  to  his  requirements  as  Great  Art,  because 
they  appeal  only  to  the  love  of  pleasure,  not  to 
the  love  of  truth  ;  they  are  one-sided  developments 
of  the  artistic  instinct.  Whenever  Art  has  set  to 
work  to  represent  Nature  and  sought  truth  first, 
it  has  shown  nascent  intelligence,  and  prophesied 
coming  greatness  ;  for  the  other  good  gifts  and 
qualities  have  followed  before  long.  But  when- 
ever Art  has  settled  down  into  mere  reproduction 
of  conventional  devices,  it  has  been  reflecting  an 
unintellectual,  indolent,  pleasure-seeking  state  of 
mind, — a  state  not  incompatible  with  strong  vices, 
cruelty,  tyranny,  and  degradation. 


X  Art  and  Morality  179 

85.  Vtdgarity. — All  Great  Art  is  tender  and 
true  {T.  /*.,  §  36),  that  is,  it  bears  witness  to  refine- 
ment of  the  sensibility  and  soundness  of  the  under- 
standing. Without  the  first  you  get  coarseness, 
sensationalism,  violence,  not  only  in  subject  but 
also  in  treatment ;  and  that  is  a  form  of  Vulgarity. 
Without  the  second  you  get  affectation,  make- 
believe,  one-sided  and  weak  regard  for  appearances  ; 
and  that  is  also  a  form  of  Vulgarity. 

The  reverse  of  Vulgarity,  whatever  we  may 
call  it,  means  something  that  conventional  precepts 
of  Morality  cannot  give  ;  it  means  high  develop- 
ment of  the  whole  man  considered  as  acting, — 
good  breeding  in  its  true  sense.  This  leads  to 
refinement  of  perceptions  and  ready  sympathy — 
the  opposite  of  that  vulgar  coarseness  which  can 
be  roused  to  feeling  only  by  the  strongest  appeals  ; 
and  that  imitates  the  reserve  of  refinement  by 
precepts  of  self-command.  It  leads  also  to  real 
candour,  to  habitual  justice,  a  disposition  to  see 
and  acknowledge  the  truth,  as  opposed  to  low 
cunning,  the  habit  of  overreaching,  and  the  enjoy- 
ment of  successful  deceit ;  or  to  the  attempt  to 
seem  what  you  are  not,  by  pretending  to  a 
superiority  which  has  not  been  acquired  in  the 
natural  course  of  hereditary  refinement.  These 
moral  qualities  reflect  themselves  in  Art  When 
the  painter  looks  at  Nature  or  his  subject  only 
as  a  means  to  the  display  of  some  effect  which 
he  has  been  taught  to  consider  desirable — that  is 
affectation,  a  proof  of  Vulgarity.  And  when  he 
fails  to  feel  the  more  delicate  appeals  of  Truth  and 
Beauty,  and  exaggerates  their  force  into  violence  of 


i8o  Art- Teaching  of  Ruskin         chap,  x 

dramatic  action  and  of  contrasted  light  and  dark 
into  crudity  of  colour  and  over-emphasised  draw- 
ing, it  is  a  proof  of  insensibility — the  other  form  of 
Vulgarity  {M.  P.y  vol.  v.  pt.  ix.  chaps,  vii,  viii.) 

Another  evidence  of  Vulgarity  is  in  the  pursuit 
of  common  and  animal  beauty  in  the  human 
figure,  as  opposed  to  that  beauty  which  is  the  ex- 
pression of  Morality  and  Intellect,  The  common 
ideal  of  "  beauty  mania "  is  eminently  vulgar, 
partly  because  it  is  untrue,  and  partly  because  it 
appeals  to  the  lower  passions — to  ^sthesis  and  not 
to  Theoria  {M.  P.,  vol,  iii,  chap,  v.)  The  treatment 
of  ordinary  life  need  not  be  vulgar  at  all ;  great 
painters  elevate  even  the  commonest  and  most 
foolish  of  subjects  by  seeing  them  from  high 
standpoints,  as  symbols  and  types  of  human  life  ; 
and  by  indicating,  perhaps  unconsciously,  their 
relation  to  broad  ethical  laws. 

If  it  were  true  that  Ruskin  regarded  the 
"  literary  subject "  as  contributing  to  the  greatness 
of  Art,  he  would  not  have  affirmed  so  plainly  the 
power  of  imaginative  treatment.  As  it  is,  he 
teaches  that  the  choice  of  a  noble  subject  is  one 
of  the  conditions  of  noble  Art — but  only  the  first 
and  least  important.  "  High "  Art  and  purism, 
however  sincere,  are  not  enough  to  secure  purity 
of  Art  and  high  moral  tone.  That  is  given  in  the 
treatment ;  and  the  treatment  is  the  expression  of 
character,  conditioned  by  moral  laws  over  which 
the  artist  has  no  control — the  same  laws  which 
condition  his  will  in  every  other  department  of 
human  action. 


CHAPTER    XI 

THE    SOCIOLOGY    OF   ART 

86.  Heredity, — The  first  condition  of  a  man's 
capacity  for  Art  must  be  looked  for  in  those 
circumstances  of  his  breeding  which  make  him — 
far  more  than  he  is  willing  to  acknowledge — vulgar 
or  refined,  sensitive,  sympathetic,  truth-loving,  or 
coarse,  selfish,  and  cunning.  We  have  seen  that 
Art  depends  on  these  ethical  qualities  ;  and  we 
have  now  to  examine  the  sources  of  character  and 
the  circumstances  of  its  development. 

Art  is  not  a  thing  that  can  be  learnt  from 
rules  ;  the  talent  is  instinctive,  that  is  to  say,  the 
result  of  inherited  memory  ;  and  this  is  the  case 
as  much  in  men  as  in  other  animals.  The  mere 
capacity  for  enjoying  Art  is  denied  to  those  who 
have  not  received  it  from  a  line  of  ancestors 
accustomed  to  take  delight  in  beauty  and  thought. 
Landscape  can  be  enjoyed  only  by  a  cultivated 
people,  or  their  descendants  who  inherit  their  likes 
and  dislikes  (Z.  A.,  §  24).  All  Art,  whether  in 
the  nation'  or  in  the  individual,  is  the  result  of  a 
long  course  of  previous  life  and  training  (on  "  The 
Study  of  Architecture,"  0.  R.^  vol.  i.  §  276).     Fine 


1 8 2  Art- Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

execution  implies  a  mind  and  a  body  perfected 
by  heredity  and  practice  (Z.  A.,  §  71), 

We  often  see  two  students  of  apparently  equal 
mental  calibre,  who  differ  enormously  in  their 
powers  of  learning  to  draw — to  draw  beautifully. 
It  is  absurd  to  suppose  that  the  one  who  fails, 
fails  only  from  inattention  to  the  rules  given  by 
the  master.  Taknt  in  one  case  is  present ;  and 
talent  means — what? 

In  ancient  times  Art  was  handed  down  from 
father  to  son,  from  son  to  grandson,  or  from  uncle 
to  nephew.  It  ran  in  families,  notably  in  early 
Greece,  among  the  earlier  Italians,  and  among  the 
Dutch.  When  Art  became  academical — a  thing 
of  rules  and  ingenuity,  no  longer  the  free  employ- 
ment of  unconscious  powers — and  when  it  offered 
high  prizes  in  wealth  and  reputation,  it  was 
"  adopted  as  a  profession  "  by  clever  men  of  all 
kinds  ;  and  very  cleverly  they  have  sustained  their 
reputation.  And  yet  in  the  biographies  of  those 
great  artists  whose  ancestry  is  known,  it  is  inter- 
esting to  find  how  often  there  appears  a  father,  or 
a  grandfather,  or  an  uncle,  a  mother,  or  some 
maternal  relative  engaged  in  some  form  of  art, 
or  richly  endowed  with  powers  that  would  have 
formed  an  artist.  Where  this  seems  not  acknow- 
ledged, we  usually  find  that  very  little  is  known 
about  the  artist's  ancestry,  as  in  the  case  of  Giotto 
and  Turner,  Sometimes,  indeed,  a  whole  com- 
munity is  interested  in  the  arts,  like  the  Florentines 
of  the  fifteenth  century,  from  whom  one  is  not 
surprised  at  the  appearance  of  genius  in  any 
family,  as  in  Michelangelo.      But  far  oftener  the 


XI  The  Sociology  of  Art  183 

talent  is  obviously  hereditary,  and  enhanced  by 
early  training  in  the  parental  profession.  Raphael 
is  perhaps  the  most  obvious  example  of  a  man 
whose  inherited  art-powers  were  developed  by  the 
best  teaching,  and  raised  to  the  height  of  genius 
by  association  with  a  strong  nature  and  a  powerful 
intellect.  For  it  is  not  only  the  practice  of  Art 
that  is  necessary  to  breed  an  artist,  but  the  practice 
of  Morality,  which  endows  him  with  a  fine  and 
capable  character. 

Zj.  Tradition. — On  the  other  hand,  the  native 
capabilities  of  the  artist,  though  a  necessary  pre- 
liminary, are  not  alone  sufficient  to  produce  the 
highest  kind  of  great  Art ;  there  must  be  right 
training.  Great  Art  is  not  experimental.  Experi- 
ments may  be  right  and  necessary  in  transition 
periods ;  but  they  cannot  rank  with  the  final 
development  of  perfected  style.  Tentative  work 
may  be  deeply  interesting,  but  its  incomplete 
nature  comes  from  want  of  hereditary  power,  or 
else  from  want  of  right  teaching. 

However  creditable  it  is  for  a  thinker  to 
attempt  to  reconstruct  a  new  system  on  the  ruins 
of  all  previous  thought,  the  history  of  philosophy 
shows  that  such  attempts  are  not  at  once  success- 
ful ;  that  it  takes  two  or  three  generations  to 
arrive  at  a  satisfactory  theory  on  the  new  lines. 
Much  more  is  this  the  case  in  Art,  where  so  great 
part  of  success  depends  on  the  "  studied  result  of 
accumulated  observation  and  delightful  habit." 
The  originality  which  proves  Art  vital  does  not 
mean  doing  what  nobody  has  ever  seen  attempted 
before  ;  it  means  spontaneity  of  genuine  thought 


184  Art-  Teaching  of  RusktJi  chap. 

and  unaffected  feeling,  working  within  traditionary 
bounds,  with  complete  power  and  insight ;  it  is 
parallel  to  the  vexed  conception  of  Freewill  in 
Ethics,  and  as  much  misunderstood. 

In  reviewing  the  history  of  Art  it  becomes 
evident  that  the  greatest  achievements  have  been 
in  development  of  existing  ideals  and  methods,  not 
in  antagonism  to  them  ;  and  the  more  we  know 
about  the  great  schools,  the  more  we  are  forced  to 
recognise  their  continuity.  It  is  mere  ignorance 
which  engenders  the  vanity  of  supposing  that  we 
can  invent,  at  a  stroke,  a  new  style  of  architecture, 
a  new  method  of  looking  at  Nature,  a  new  manner 
of  painting :  there  is  nothing  new  under  the  sun. 
At  the  same  time  it  must  be  remembered  that  the 
influence  both  of  heredity  and  tradition  is  only 
healthy  when  it  is  unconscious.  The  son  of  a 
great  artist  is  commonly  a  very  inferior  painter  ; 
and  all  the  rules  of  all  the  studios  cannot  produce 
a  living  work  of  Art. 

In  the  ancient  schools  the  affiliation  of  the 
painter  or  sculptor  was  obvious.  Shut  out  from 
knowledge  of  any  but  the  art  of  his  race,  his 
highest  endeavour  was  to  improve  it  into  greater 
naturalism — the  continuity  was  unbroken,  and  can 
be  charted  in  a  diagram.  When,  at  the  Renais- 
sance, the  artist  could  select  from  a  variety  of 
styles,  and  by  travelling  abroad  graft  upon  his 
native  ideals  those  of  alien  races,  an  eclectic 
manner  was  formed,  and  derivative  style  became 
possible.  It  was  rare  that  eclecticism  produced 
anything  of  vital  power  ;  and  nowadays  that  the 
student  goes  far  afield  and  dissipates  his  energies 


XI  The  Sociology  of  Art  185 

in  the  attempt  to  combine  all  manner  of  incom- 
patible ideals,  we  see  everywhere  a  sort  of  hybrid 
experimentalism,  which  may  indeed  ultimately 
result  in  progress,  but  is,  for  the  time,  anarchic, 
absurd,  and  barbarous.  The  "  Inglese  Italianato  " 
was  the  laughing-stock  of  last  century  ;  and  now 
the  Parisian  Cockney  claims  the  reversion  of  the 
wooden  spoon. 

When,  however,  not  ideals  but  technical  methods 
are  the  objects  of  the  student's  imitation,  and 
when  those  methods  are  not  incompatible  with  his 
native  powers,  he  shows  his  wisdom  in  learning 
from  those  great  masters  at  home  or  abroad  who 
are  most  qualified  to  teach.  Reynolds,  in  studying 
Titian's  manner  of  colouring,  was  perfectly  right  ; 
in  recommending  his  pupils  to  attempt  the  grand 
style  of  Michelangelo  he  was  wrong.  The  affilia- 
tion of  one  school  to  another  is  as  much  a  fact 
in  Art-history  as  the  affiliation  of  one  painter  to 
another ;  it  is  quite  a  different  thing  from  the 
refusal  of  tradition,  from  the  contagion  of  fashion, 
and  from  eclecticism.  It  is  even  right  and  pos- 
sible to  hark  back  to  earlier  standpoints,  as  the 
Pre-Raphaelites  did,  and  to  attempt  the  re-intro- 
duction of  methods  which  a  degenerate  school  has 
forgotten.  And  yet  even  this  has  its  dangers  and 
its  limits  ;  affectation  was  the  ruin  of  the  Pre- 
Raphaelite  School,  and  its  originality,  in  the 
common  sense  of  the  word,  was  not  so  great  as 
ignorant  critics  of  the  time  imagined  ;  it  was 
original  only  when  sincere  in  its  search  after  Truth, 
not  in  the  attempt  to  see  Nature  through  the 
distorting    panes    of   Gothic   windows,   to    invent 


1 86  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

strange  postures,  and  to  force  its  conceptions  into 
mediaeval  framework.  Its  strength  and  success 
were  in  its  truth  to  Nature,  not  in  its  break 
with  tradition  ;  it  put  in  practice  the  precept  of 
all  the  schools,  the  neglected  precept  to  "  learn  of 
Nature,"  and  so  far  as  it  adhered  to  that — not 
very  original  or  audacious  principle,  it  was  sup- 
ported by  Ruskin ;  but  he  had  no  good  word 
for  its  morbid  fancies  and  resultant  -^stheticism 
{Academy  Notes,  No,  iv.,  1858,  p.  11). 

88.  The  Evolution  of  Art. — It  can  never  be 
too  firmly  asserted  that  the  first  condition  of  vital 
Art  is  the  desire  to  represent  Truth.  With  that 
condition  an  individual  artist,  and  still  more  a 
school  of  artists,  may  hope  to  proceed  to  the 
illustration  of  Beauty  and  Imagination  ;  but  no 
progress  is  possible  without  it ;  Art  becomes  a 
mere  repetition,  and  a  gradually  degenerating 
repetition,  of  forms  once  intended  for  Truth,  but 
now  mere  patterns.  This  was  seen  in  Scandinavian 
and  Celtic  Art,  and  it  is  the  characteristic  of  most 
Oriental  races — excepting  the  Japanese.  There 
may  be  many  reasons  for  this  absence  of  the 
desire  for  Truth,  the  chief  being  some  unhappi- 
ness  in  material  or  social  circumstances,  inclement 
dwelling-places,  disordered  condition  of  the  body 
politic,  oppression,  and  rapine — it  matters  little  to 
the  result  whether  they  are  the  robbers  or  the 
robbed.  But  in  all  these  cases  vital  Art  is  at  a 
low  ebb,  and  Great  Art  is  impossible. 

Sometimes  out  of  anarchy  and  barbarism  a 
nation  is  seen  to  spring  with  vigour,  as  if  its  roots 
had  tapped  some  irrigating  drainage  or  reached 


XI  The  Sociology  of  Art  187 

some  fertilising  subsoil.  And  the  first  change 
that  comes  over  the  old  barbarous  Art  exhibits 
a  desire  for  portraiture.  The  early  Greek  Art,  of 
Cyprus  for  example,  shows  this  in  a  striking 
manner ;  the  early  Lombardic  sculpture  of  S. 
Ambrogio  at  Milan  {T.  P.,  §  32)  ;  the  early 
Norman  work, — not  the  derivative  Norman  of  our 
northern  cathedrals  {T.  P.,  §  33),  but  such  ex- 
amples as  Vezelay.  In  all  these  cases  the  only 
change  that  transforms  barbarous  and  conventional 
manufacture  into  vital  Art  with  potentialities  of 
greatness,  is  the  awakening  of  the  artist  to  the 
power  and  desire  of  Representation  :  the  tradition- 
ary forms  of  Art  are  followed,  but  the  face  of  the 
Isis- Aphrodite  (to  take  an  example  penes  me) 
becomes  a  portrait  of  a  real  woman — the  worm- 
twists  on  the  brooches  of  Norway  become  the 
fighting  beasts  on  the  capitals  of  Normandy.  To 
follow  this  question  further  would  be — like  the 
development  of  many  of  our  paragraphs — to 
wander  among  deeply  interesting  detail  ;  but  our 
object  is  to  get  Ruskin's  teaching  in  its  general 
scope,  and  here  we  must  rest  satisfied  with  stating 
his  main  doctrine,  that  all  Real  Art  begins  with 
the  love  of  Truth,  that  it  attains  greatness  in  pro- 
portion as  it  attains  the  power  of  representing 
Truth,  and  that  it  falls  into  decay  when  the  con- 
scious aim  after  Truth  is  replaced  by  the  con- 
scious desire  of  Beauty.  The  greatest  Art  secures 
Beauty,  but  does  not  make  it  the  chief  end  and 
aim  ;  decadent  Art  secures  Truth,  but  only  as  a 
secondary  purpose  and  by-end  ;  nascent  Art  always 
tries  for  Truth,  even  at  the  expense  of  Beauty. 


1 88  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

89.  The  Great  Schools. —  But  the  particular 
kind  of  Truth  which  a  nascent  school  desires 
is  determined  by  national  ideals  and  character. 
Three  schools  have  produced  the  greatest  work  in 
the  world — three  schools  of  quite  separate  aim 
and  supereminent  achievement — the  Athenian, 
the  Tuscan,  and  the  Venetian.  All  other  schools 
are  either  the  roots  or  the  fruits  of  these  three. 
The  Athenian  was  preceded  by  various  develop- 
ments in  Egypt,  Assyria,  and  Phoenicia,  which 
went  to  form  the  material  out  of  which  the  flower 
of  Greek  Art  sprang ;  but  nobody  except  an 
archaeologist  takes  genuine  pleasure  in  Assyrian 
bas;reliefs  and  Egyptian  friezes,  while  every  one, 
more  or  less,  understands  and  approves  the  ideal 
of  Pheidias.  The  Tuscan  School  culminated  in 
Leonardo,  Michelangelo,  and  Raphael ;  the  Vene- 
tian in  Titian,  Veronese,  and  Tintoret  :  all  primi- 
tive Italian,  German,  and  Flemish  craftsmen  stand 
to  these  perfected  artists  just  as  Phoenician 
sculpture  stands  to  Periclean  —  as  collateral 
ancestry.  And  all  subsequent  serious  Art  owes 
its  existence  to  the  emulation  of  those  great  men, 
to  rival  whom,  in  their  own  provinces,  every  one 
has  been  prompted,  but  no  one  has  been  permitted. 
Thus  the  history  of  Art  is  mainly  occupied  by 
these  three  schools,  for  the  trivial  realism  of 
ancient  rhopography  and  modern  genre-painting 
does  not  attempt  all  that  Art  can  do ;  and  is,  con- 
sequently, not  a  fully  developed  specimen  of  that 
natural  product  which  we  are  investigating  ;  it  is 
not  "  Great "  Art,  but  an  inferior  and  stunted 
variety.     There  is  another  development  possible. 


XI  The  Sociology  of  Art  189 

and  partially  illustrated — the  modern  Art  of 
Landscape — but  it  is  too  soon  to  write  its  history. 
One  can  surely  hope  that  the  School  of  Wilson 
and  Turner,  of  Prout  and  Cox,  and  of  still 
surviving  naturalistic  masters,  is  not  yet  to  be 
extinguished  by  a  passing  fashion  of  French 
Romanticism. 

Omitting,  then,  the  contemporary  school  (but 
not  excepting  it  from  the  principles  of  our  investi- 
gation), we  are  to  note  how  the  desire  for  Truth 
produced  such  different  results,  and  how  it  mani- 
fested itself  in  the  Imaginative  Art  of  Athens, 
Florence,  and  Venice.  We  have  already  seen  that 
Greek  religion  determined  the  anthropomorphism 
of  Greek  Art.  Because  the  whole  race  believed 
in  humanised  conceptions,  human  powers,  and 
humane  virtues,  its  creed  and  myths  and  art  of 
idol-making  were  directed  to  the  study  of  human 
nature.  For  the  first  time  the  religious  artist  was 
bidden  to  look  at  something  he  could  see  with  his 
eyes,  and  to  copy  it  as  he  saw  it ;  the  natural 
Truth,  which  was  only  a  by-play  in  earlier  styles, 
became  vehicle  of  the  highest  ideals.  The  very 
form  of  godhead,  in  Egypt  and  Assyria,  was 
compounded  of  bestial  shapes — nobly  symbolic, 
perhaps,  but  not  admitting  of  simply  truthful 
treatment  ;  at  last,  by  the  Greeks,  it  was  con- 
ceived as  purely  human,  and  rendered  by  straight- 
forward copying  of  the  model.  The  conventional 
idealism,  the  generalised  beauty  of  Greek  faces 
and  figures,  was  a  product  of  the  decadence ; 
early  Greek  faces  are  portraits,  and  early  Greek 
figures   are    the   most   nafve   attempts   at    simple 


IQO  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

representation  of  models  studied  from  Nature, 
though  posed  according  to  tradition.  The  whole 
strength  of  Greek  Art  is  based  on  this  habit  of 
truthfulness,  and  if,  at  the  time  when  the  mimetic 
power  was  fully  developed,  Greek  social  and 
political  life  had  not  broken  up  and  fallen  to 
pieces,  a  great  school  of  portraiture  would  doubt- 
less have  been  formed,  anticipating  the  achieve- 
ments of  later  ages  ;  but  the  decadence  was  too 
rapid,  and  nothing  was  left  for  Greek  Art  but 
prettinesses  and  sensualities,  upon  which  to  em- 
ploy  its    unparalleled    technical    abilities    {L.   A., 

§  104). 

It  is  commonly  supposed  that  Mr.  Ruskin  is 
exclusively  devoted  to  Gothic  and  Landscape,  to 
the  exclusion  of  Classical  Art ;  but  that  is  not  so. 
He  has  energetically  opposed  the  debased  and 
decadent  Art  of  the  Roman  Empire  and  the 
twice -derivative  Art  of  the  Roman  Renaissance. 
He  has  contrasted  with  them  the  vital  powers  of 
Gothic  and  Landscape,  with  a  fulness  of  exposi- 
tion which  has  made  him  the  champion  of  northern 
and  modern  styles  and  ideals.  But  that  does  not 
prevent  his  taking  a  genuine  interest  in  Greek 
Art  of  the  great  age  leading  up  to  Pheidias,  as 
the  Queen  of  the  Air  and  Aratra  Pentelici  suffi- 
ciently testify  {T.  P.,  §  80) ;  and  the  reader  who 
knows  Ruskin's  home  will  remember  that  Greek 
statuary,  vases,  and  coins  are  among  its  most 
valued  treasures  and  conspicuous  ornaments. 

The  Greek  love  of  Truth,  then,  created  the 
school  of  figure-sculpture,  which  began  in  realism, 
though  it  developed  into  idealism — to  adopt  the 


XI  The  Sociology  of  Art  191 

common  meaning  of  the  term  ;  that  is  to  say, 
the  conventional,  generalised  drawing  of  classical 
figure-sculpture  was  a  stage  into  which  the  early 
search  after  particular  Truth  passed  ;  and  out  of 
which  the  imitators  of  Classic  Art  have  not  gener- 
ally risen,  though  the  greater  masters  of  Greece 
in  its  greatest  period  were  not  content  without 
specialisation,  without  individualisation.  It  was 
one  of  the  charges  against  Pheidias  that  he  intro- 
duced his  own  portrait  and  that  of  Pericles  into 
sacred  subjects. 

The  Tuscan  School  was  formed  upon  a  quite 
different  ideal  of  Religion  and  Morality — ascetic 
Christianity  of  the  more  intellectual  type.  Its 
object  was  to  "  paint  soul  " — to  give  human  char- 
acter as  expressed  chiefly  in  the  face,  secondarily 
in  the  limbs.  As  the  Greek  love  of  the  human 
body  degenerated  into  fleshliness,  so  the  Tuscan 
love  of  spirituality  was  likely  to  degenerate  into 
morbid  and  affected  sensibility ;  but  in  both  the 
love  of  truth  was  the  condition  of  vitality — fact 
was  the  starting-point  ;  so  that  the  tendency  of 
the  healthiest  development  of  Athenian  Art  was 
to  add  spirituality  to  bodily  perfection,  and  that 
of  Tuscan  progress  was  to  add  bodily  beauty  to 
the  beauty  of  holiness.  How  far  this  went  with- 
out any  direct  imitation  of  the  antique  is  seen  in 
the  tomb  of  Ilaria  di  Caretto  (Lucca  Cathedral)i 
in  which  the  recumbent  figure  is  a  Gothic  effigy 
with  all  the  breadth  and  sweetness  of  the  best 
Greek  work. 

The  Venetians  were  brought  up  in  quite 
another   set   of  associations :    they  represented    a 


192  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

third  distinct  character.  They  were  fishers,  sailors, 
traders,  comparatively  removed  from  the  influence 
of  the  Church,  with  something  of  Teutonic  indi- 
vidualism about  them  {M.  P.,  chap.  v.  p.  21 9). 
The  characteristic  of  their  mind  was  common 
sense  rather  than  Tuscan  refinement,  but  not  the 
scepticism  of  unbelievers ;  proud  but  honest, 
playful  but  not  frivolous,  strong  but  refined,  they 
were  sympathetic  with  a  wider  range  throughout 
Nature  than  the  Florentines,  and  their  Art  reflected 
their  mind  and  temper  {S.  V.,  passim).  Here  it 
was  the  truth  of  aspect  of  external  Nature  that 
chiefly  attracted  the  aim  of  Art ;  not  the  body 
or  soul  exclusively  of  man,  but  man  in  all  his 
surroundings.  Consequently  no  school  before  that 
of  Venice  took  such  an  interest  in  drapery  and 
costume  and  in  landscape ;  and  the  Venetians  are 
represented  by  Reynolds  as  the  Dutch  part  of  the 
Italian  genius — that  is,  the  Romantic  or  Teutonic  ; 
while  the  Tuscans  approach  nearer  than  other 
Italians  to  Greek  ideals.  This  may  partly  be  due 
to  race — the  ancient  Etruscan  strain  surviving  in 
the  one  place,  while  the  Venetians  are  Italian  only 
in  language,  being  the  descendants  of  a  mixed 
multitude  neither  Latin  nor  Greek.  But  the 
differences  of  habitation  and  employment  are 
enough  to  account  for  the  difierences  of  mental 
and  moral  temper ;  and  this  last  explains  the 
difference  of  artistic  ideal.  Both,  however,  began 
with  definite  realistic  intention.  (The  difference 
between  Greek  and  Gothic  Schools  in  matters  of 
treatment  is  noticed  later  on.) 

90.     The  Age  of  the  Masters. — These  three 


XI  The  Sociology  of  Art  193 

characters  formed  the  three  great  schools — anthro- 
pomorphism the  Athenian,  Christian  asceticism  the 
Tuscan,  and  Christian  "  worldly  "  life  the  Venetian  : 
to  which  may  be  added  the  Protestant  School  of 
Landscape,  as  we  noted,  not  yet  matter  of  history. 
In  these  schools  the  beginning  was  the  desire  of 
Truth,  coincident  with  political  and  social  upstriv- 
ing,  respectively  on  the  .^gean,  in  Central  Italy, 
and  on  the  Adriatic.  At  last  the  political  move- 
ment reached  in  every  case  its  height ;  the  social 
ideals  reached,  as  nearly  as  might  be,  their  fulfil- 
ment ;  and  then  they  began  to  give  place  to  the 
decline.  But  Art  did  not  attain  its  full  perfection 
until  the  nation  had  passed  its  meridian  in  matters 
political  and  social.  I  do  not  remember  that  Mr. 
Ruskin  gives  a  reason  for  this,  though  he  notes 
the  fact ;  but  when  we  recollect  that  beautiful 
Art  can  be  produced  only  by  people  who  have 
beautiful  things  to  look  at,  and  leisure  to  look 
about  them  {T.  P.,  §  90),  we  see  that  the  perfec- 
tion of  external  security  and  the  realisation  of 
good  government  are  necessary  preliminaries  to 
the  full  development  of  Art.  The  artist  who  is 
to  do  the  best  work  must,  of  course,  be  born  and 
brought  up,  not  in  the  turmoil,  danger,  and  dis- 
satisfaction of  the  period  of  growth,  but  in  the 
comfort  and  culture  of  a  completed  civilisation. 
Consequently  his  work  must  linger  half  a  century 
beyond  the  meridian  turning-point ;  and  that 
point  is  more  rapidly  passed  in  history  than  one 
would  think,  or  than  one  could  wish.  This  is 
why  we  find  Pheidias  contemporary  with  Kleon 
and  Alkibiades  ;  Raphael  and  Michelangelo  with 

O 


194  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

the  Medici  and  the  Renaissance  Popes  ;  Titian  and 
Tintoret  with  the  fall  of  Venice  and  the  intro- 
duction of  dissolute  morals  and  luxurious  living. 

In  spite  of  this  fact,  the  acme  of  Art  can  never 
be  very  greatly  in  arrear  of  the  acme  of  social  and 
moral  virtue  and  development.  In  special  places 
smaller  schools  come  to  their  full  power  at  various 
times ;  for  example,  there  is  a  distinct  rise,  great- 
ness, and  decay  in  each  of  the  states  of  mediaeval 
Italy,  in  each  of  the  nations  of  mediaeval  Europe. 
The  Gothic  architecture  of  any  place,  its  various 
artistic  crafts  and  manufactures,  claim  a  separate 
inquiry,  for  the  causes  which  create  and  condition 
them  are  not  identical  with  those  which  fix  the 
period  and  the  scope  of  the  highest  formative  art, 
painting.  And  yet  in  all  the  minor  Arts  the 
growing  time  is  that  in  which  Truth  is  the  artist's 
aim  ;  the  great  time  is  that  in  which  some  climax 
of  national  character  is  attained — the  full  develop- 
ment of  the  special  character  which  is  reflected  in 
the  special  Art ;  and  the  decadence  is  marked  by 
the  preference  of  Beauty  to  Truth,  corresponding 
with  luxury  in  the  society  producing  or  demanding 
the  special  Art.  And  these  minor  crafts  are  higher 
in  rank  in  proportion  as  they  approach  the  sub- 
jects and  standards  of  the  highest  Art  of  the  time 
— that  is  to  say,  in  the  Middle  Ages,  Painting, 
Gothic  architecture  is  greatest  when  its  figure- 
sculpture  is  best  and  most  prominent ;  in  its 
decadence  (Flamboyant  and  Perpendicular  styles) 
the  figures  are  subordinate  to  the  niche- work 
{T.  P.,  §  38). 

By  the  Age  of  the  Masters  Ruskin  understands 


XI  The  Sociology  of  Art  195 

that  which  immediately  precedes  the  final  efflor- 
escence and  grandest  manifestation  of  national 
style  ;  for  the  artists  in  whom  all  previous  tradi- 
tion and  heredity  is  summed  up  and  displayed 
are  masters  of  no  great  men,  teachers  only  of 
degenerate  pupils.  Bellini  and  Verrocchio  and 
Ghirlandajo  and  Perugino  are  the  masters,  properly 
so  called  ;  Giorgione  and  Titian,  Leonardo  and 
Michelangelo  and  Raphael,  failed  to  hand  on  the 
Art  to  still  greater  men,  though  Luini,  Leonardo's 
pupil,  was  a  greater  artist,  according  to  Ruskin, 
than  history  and  criticism  have  yet  admitted,  and 
Tintoret  was  in  a  sense  a  pupil  of  Titian.  But  the 
period  was  a  climax  ;  after  it  the  decadence. 

91.  Decadence. — Of  all  things  it  is  most  im- 
portant, in  connection  with  what  I  call,  for  want  of 
a  better  name,  the  Sociology  of  Art,  to  grasp  the 
truth  that  on  the  one  hand  these  periods  of  rise 
and  consummation  and  decay  do  exist,  and  are 
conditioned  by  public  morals  and  politics  ;  and  on 
the  other  hand  that  by  anticipation  and  by  rever- 
sion important  art -work  may  be  done  at  any 
time.  Even  in  an  age  of  decadence — and  in  spite 
of  much  whitewashing  such  ages  do  stand  out  in 
history  as  blots  and  patches  of  decay — even  then 
the  conditions  of  talent  exist  in  places  :  country 
villages  breed  up  men  of  the  old  blood  ;  some  of 
the  towns-families  preserve  the  traditions  of  recti- 
tude and  sobriety  ;  and  out  of  these  may  spring 
at  any  moment  a  man  with  the  highest  gifts. 

And  then  the  question  arises.  What  use  will 
be  made  of  those  gifts  ?  Mr.  Ruskin's  frequent 
lamentations  over  the  use  to  ■which  the  world  has 


196  A rt-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap, 

put  the  talent  it  has  found,  the  way  in  which 
society  has  ruined  such  and  such  a  genius — these 
are  all  to  be  understood  and  justified  by  his 
Philosophy  of  Art.  They  mean  that  Art  is  pro- 
duced by  a  talent  God-given  in  so  far  as  all  good 
and  perfect  work  is  God's  giving — the  result  of 
Godly  and  manly  life  ;  but  also  in  accordance  with 
demand,  the  demand  being  the  voice  of  the  people, 
which  is  not  always  the  voice  of  God,  but  some- 
times the  plain  temptation  of  the  Evil  One.  It  is 
only  when  the  talent  meets  with  a  demand  for  its 
highest  use  that  the  highest  result  is  attained. 
The  "  public  of  one  "  is  not  a  stimulating  public  ; 
an  isolated  genius  fallen  on  evil  times  can  do  little 
more  than  show  his  power — he  cannot  fully  use  it. 
The  indignant  remonstrances  of  Modern  Painters 
against  those  who  misunderstood  and  consequently 
crippled  artists  who  might  have  done  even  better 
things  in  this  century,  for  example,  are  accurately 
justified  but  naturally  unacceptable.  A  man  like 
Turner,  finding  his  own  standard  unappreciated, 
and  his  normal  progress  decried,  stiffened  his  back 
against  his  public,  and  painted  to  puzzle  them  ; 
other  men  of  less  independent  character  abandoned 
their  own  ideals,  and  worked  for  popularity.  In 
either  case  the  result  fell  far  short  of  what  they 
might  have  done  had  they  found  a  welcome  for 
their  exertions  and  an  intelligent  acceptance, 
tolerant  of  necessary  shortcomings  and  apprecia- 
tive of  the  advancement  gained.  That  demands 
a  very  high  standard  of  public  intelligence  ? — Pre- 
cisely ;  and  in  the  ages  when  really  great  Art  has 
flourished,  such  a  high  standard  must  have  been 


XI  The  Sociology  of  Art  197 

reached  ;  in  those  times  when  men — now  seen  to 
be  the  leaders  of  their  art — were  unacceptable,  the 
standard  of  public  intelligence  must  have  been  low 
and  inadequate. 

And  yet  in  any  period  of  decadence  good  work 
is  being  done,  good  within  its  limits  and  in  its 
way  ;  chiefly,  however,  as  showing  cleverness,  the 
least  of  all  the  virtues  of  Art.  But  to  the  philo- 
sopher it  is  not  a  pleasant  sight  to  see  the  clever- 
ness which  might  have  been  put  to  noble  ends 
sacrificed  on  adorning  cruelty  or  pampering 
luxury.  And  after  a  while  even  this  cleverness 
dies  out,  as  in  the  decline  of  Rome  ;  coarseness 
and  sensationalism,  the  taint  of  slovenly  work  and 
indolent  thought,  pervade  everything ;  and  the 
very  skill  of  technique — the  last  thing  to  go — is 
lost  in  superinduced  barbarism. 

92.  Local  Art. — But  all  the  world  does  not 
move  with  parallel  strides  to  vigour  and  then  to 
decay.  In  every  country,  in  every  district,  there 
are  separate  movements  ;  and  every  place  has  had, 
or  can  have,  its  own  Art,  great  or  small,  as  the 
place  rises  to  importance  in  world-history  or  keeps 
its  comparative  obscurity.  Here  comes  in  the 
distinction  between  vital  Art  and  that  which  is 
really  great  Many  a  vital  art  and  craft  has  ex- 
isted which  has  not  risen  to  the  greatness  of  the 
Athenian  or  Tuscan  or  Venetian  Schools,  simply 
because  the  place  has  never  been  an  Athens  or  a 
Florence  or  a  Venice.  In  Gothic  building,  for 
example,  every  district  has  its  school  and  its  his- 
tory ;  though  the  most  perfectly  developed  Gothic 
has    been    shown    only   where   the    political    and 


198  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

social  virtues  have  been  most  clearly  brought  out. 
Though  France,  before  the  Renaissance,  had  fallen 
from  that  conscious  leadership  of  civilisation  which 
was  taken  by  Italy,  she  stood  first  in  the  Middle 
Ages  ;  and  her  Gothic  is  a  creation  by  itself,  vital 
and  great  in  its  degree  (Z.  -(4.  /*.,  §  2 1). 

And  when  we  look  into  the  work  of  small 
districts  we  find  everywhere  some  vital  art,  it  may 
be  only  one  of  the  minor  crafts,  but  still  living  and 
powerful.  The  characteristics  that  mark  off  one 
school  from  another  are  those  of  very  delicately 
discriminated  individualities,  none  the  less  dis- 
criminated, and  depending  for  their  value  upon 
the  fact  of  their  discrimination.  Almost  every  town 
in  Italy,  every  province  of  France,  every  state  in 
Ancient  Greece,  has  had  its  own  separate  school ; 
and  the  derivative  Sham  Art,  a  thing  of  eclecticism 
and  patches,  was  unknown  until,  towards  the  end 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  Flemings  and  French 
tried  to  combine  their  native  ideals  with  Italian 
classicism.  It  is  not  the  provincialism  of  a  school 
that  condemns  it ;  on  the  contrary,  a  living  art 
may  exist  in  the  remotest  provinces,  while  the 
metropolis  swarms  with  the  moth  and  reddens 
with  the  rust  of  dead  Art. 

"  All  Great  Art,  in  the  great  times  of  Art,  is 
provincial,  showing  its  energy  in  the  capital,  but 
educated,  and  chiefly  productive,  in  its  own 
country  town.  The  best  works  of  Correggio  are 
at  Parma,  but  he  lived  in  his  patronymic  village  ; 
the  best  works  of  Cagliari  are  at  Venice,  but  he 
learned  to  paint  at  Verona ;  the  best  works  of 
Angelico  are  at  Rome,  but   he  lived  at   F^sole  ; 


XI  The  Sociology  of  Art  199 

the  best  works  of  Luini  at  Milan,  but  he  lived  at 
Luino.  And  with  still  greater  necessity  of  moral 
law,  the  cities  which  exercise  forming  power  on 
style  are  themselves  provincial.  There  is  no 
Attic  style,  but  there  is  a  Doric  and  Corinthian 
one.  There  is  no  Roman  style,  but  there  is  an 
Umbrian,  Tuscan,  Lombard,  and  Venetian  one. 
There  is  no  Parisian  style,  but  there  is  a  Norman 
and  Burgundian  one.  There  is  no  London  or 
Edinburgh  style,  but  there  is  a  Kentish  and 
Northumbrian  one"  {A.  £".,  Appendix). 

93.  National  Art. — Though  the  capital  of 
any  country  is  not  the  true  focus  of  its  real  Art 
power,  the  national  spirit  determines  both  the 
talent  of  the  individual  workman  and  the  use  to 
which  it  will  be  put.  One  of  the  fallacies  of  more 
recent  times  has  been  to  attempt  a  reconciliation 
of  incompatible  ideals  ;  to  force  the  spirit  of  one 
age  into  that  of  another ;  to  naturalise  exotic 
tastes  and  to  nurture  them  up  in  the  hothouse  of 
dilettantism.  All  the  pseudo- classic  Art  of  this 
century  is  alien  ;  and  just  as  alien  is  the  Gothic 
revival  wherever  it  tries  to  adopt  the  externals  of 
mediaeval  work.  What  we  have  to  learn  from 
the  Greeks  is  not  to  draw  or  carve  nude  figures 
with  conventional  anatomy,  but  to  approach 
Nature  with  that  earnest  observation  by  which 
the  Greeks  of  the  great  age  learned  their  business. 
And  similarly,  though  the  thirteenth  century  was 
a  noble  time  both  in  its  chivalry  and  in  its  decora- 
tive ability,  we  do  not  want  either  the  life  or  the 
decorations  of  the  thirteenth  century  back  again. 
It  was   founded   on  the  pride  of  aristocracy,  the 


2 oo  A  rt-  Teach ing  of  Ruskin  chap. 

luxury  of  the  few,  the  adornment  of  war,  the 
exaltation  of  a  creed  that  has  passed  away 
(7". /'.,  §  92).  We  want  to  learn  and  imitate  the 
truthful  and  sincere  attitude  of  mind  by  which  Art, 
even  under  those  circumstances,  became  Vital ; 
and  our  own  spirit  will  show  itself  for  what  it  is 
worth  when  we  have  achieved  the  ideal  of  a  nation 
which  has  learned  to  avoid  the  luxury  of  the  past 
and  to  escape  the  drudgery  of  the  present. 

We  cannot  decorate  like  the  mediaevals  because 
we  are  too  busy  about  little  things.  In  their  days 
events  alternated  with  repose ;  stirring  the  ima- 
gination, and  then  leaving  it  to  act.  We  may 
imitate  their  ornament  with  some  success  ;  but 
that  is  not  Vital  and  Original  Art.  Again,  the 
instinct  of  decoration  is  hereditary,  and  we  have 
lost  it ;  perhaps  our  labour  may  begin  a  new 
train  of  development,  but  it  cannot  accomplish 
great  things  now.  Here  and  there,  by  the  rejec- 
tion of  national  spirit,  a  man  succeeds  in  decorat- 
ing ;  but  you  find  he  is  a  stranger  in  the  land, 
either  an  actual  foreigner,  or  else  a  recluse  or  a 
poet,  living  wholly  in  the  past,  stirring  his  mind 
with  histories  of  his  own  invention,  and  not  letting 
it  flag  every  forenoon  after  the  petty  excitements 
of  the  morning  newspaper.  Decoration  is  im- 
possible to  the  average  Englishman  as  he  stands 
in  average  life  at  present  (read  on  this  subject 
L.A.,  Lect.  i.) 

We  cannot  rise  to  pure  Ideal  Art,  not  only 
because  we  have  no  fixed  and  deep  beliefs  cap- 
able of  being  translated  into  plastic  form,  but 
also  because  the  temper  of  the   English  mind  is 


XI  The  Sociology  of  Art  201 

•humorous  and  burlesque.  Of  this  Chaucer  and 
Shakespeare  and  Byron  are  examples,  with  their 
intrusion  of  comic  and  even  coarse  ideas  amidst 
sublimity  and  poetry.  Whenever  we  attempt  the 
Michelangelesque  we  fail.  We  must  be  content 
with  other  walks,  if  we  want  true  and  vital  work. 

We  can  paint  portraits.  The  very  insight 
which  makes  us  humorous  and  coarse  helps  us 
out  in  characterisation  ;  and  our  great  portraitists 
hold  their  own  in  history. 

We  can  paint  domestic  genre  for  the  same 
reason  ;  and  animals.  The  charm  of  mingled 
sweetness  and  sourness,  of  the  pleasing  and  the 
grotesque,  is  quite  within  the  range  of  English 
genius.  We  have  had  Vital  Art  in  these  kinds, 
and  still  have  it. 

We  can  paint  landscape.  The  fact  of  our 
dwelling  in  towns  gives  us  pleasure  in  country 
scenery  {L.  A.,  §  24).  Our  hereditary  memory, 
such  as  it  is,  has  already  filled  our  minds  with 
instinctive  sympathy  for  Nature  ;  and  the  asso- 
ciations of  history  endear  the  features  of  our  land, 
and  of  other  countries  in  which  we  have  an 
interest,  to  our  imagination.  "  The  instinctive 
love  of  landscape  in  us  has  this  deep  root,  which, 
in  your  minds,  I  will  pray  you  to  disencumber 
from  whatever  may  oppress  or  mortify  it,  and  to 
strive  to  feel  with  all  the  strength  of  your  youth 
that  a  nation  is  only  worthy  of  the  soil  and  the 
scenes  that  it  has  inherited  when  by  all  its  acts 
and  arts  it  is  making  them  more  lovely  for  its 
children  "  {L.  A.,  §  25).  And  this  leads  us  to  the 
Political  Economy  of  Art. 


CHAPTER    XII 

THE  POLITICAL  ECONOMY  OF  ART 

94.  The  Sources  of  Art. — Two  of  the  conditions 
required  for  the  production  of  Vital  Art  have  been 
already  noticed  ;  the  moral  condition  providing  an 
artist,  and  the  social  providing  him  with  a  public. 
The  third  condition  is  that  which  provides  him  with 
a  subject,  with  something  by  way  of  model,  and 
materials,  and  conveniences  for  pursuing  his. work  ; 
and  this  is  the  contribution  of  political  economy. 
Whatever  be  the  artist's  talent,  and  whatever  be 
the  public's  demand,  it  is  obvious  that  the  result 
must  after  all  depend  greatly  upon  the  third 
factor ;  for  landscape  would  be  impossible  in  a 
black  country, — one  does  not  call  a  view  of  smoke 
and  blazes  a  landscape  ;  and  portraiture  would  be 
impossible  in  a  prison-hospital, — for  one  does  not 
call  studies  of  vice  and  disease  portraiture.  To 
paint  a  landscape  you  must  see  a  landscape ;  to 
paint  a  fine  portrait  you  must  see  a  fine  head. 
And  as  all  the  Art  we  are  likely  to  get  in  England 
is  either  portraiture  or  landscape,  or  that  com- 
bination of  the  two  which  is  called  domestic  genre, 
it  becomes  of   importance    to    inquire   after    the 


CHAP.  XII    The  Political  Economy  of  Art      203 

security  of  our  tenure  of  the  materials  for  these 
arts.  Is  our  scenery  likely  to  degenerate  ?  are 
our  people  likely  to  degenerate?  for  when  the 
subjects  are  spoiled  British  Art  will  have  to  make 
bricks  without  straw. 

Human  interference  does  not  necessarily  spoil 
Nature  ;  indeed  the  whole  surface  of  cultivated 
land  is  in  its  way  beautiful,  and  it  is  quite 
artificial  ;  only  our  moors  and  our  mountains  are 
wild,  and  even  they  have  been  disafforested  by 
man.  But  still  in  cultivated  districts  something 
of  the  spirit  of  Nature  is  gone,  something  of  the 
sense  of  divine  spontaneity  ;  and  we  have  instead 
a  neatness  which  is  akin  to  vulgarity.  Only  the 
less  imaginative  painters  are  content  with  hedge- 
rows and  fatted  cattle  and  the  barnyard  ;  it  is 
not  landscape,  but  the  debatable  land  between  that 
and  domestic  genre. 

But  by  increasing  the  sense  of  Nature's  power, 
without  diminishing  the  labour  of  man,  we  get  an 
increase  of  beauty  and  sublimity,  and  to  the 
imaginative  mind  the  scene  becomes  a  noble 
subject  for  Art.  In  the  Alps  the  castles  and 
terraced  fields  are  so  entirely  subordinate  to  the 
enormous  Titan  powers  that  dominate  them  that 
their  presence  is  not  an  intrusion  ;  it  is  a  relief 
to  the  overwhelming  sense  of  sublimity  ;  it  brings 
in  associations  of  human  power  and  sympathy  in 
mitigation  of  Nature's  sternness  {T.  P.,  §  2). 

Take  away  all  trace  of  man,  and  what  was 
sublime  becomes  terrific — the  beautiful  Nature 
becomes  like  the  Queen  of  the  Lsestrygones,  who 
was  so  gigantic  that  Odysseus  and  his  companions 


204  A  rt-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

"loathed  her."  A  touch  of  humanity  is  needed 
to  make  the  world  akin  to  us  ;  without  the  sense 
of  human  power  and  presence  we  are  lost. 

But  the  other  extreme  is  equally  removed  from 
Art — when  man  has  invaded  Nature  and  destroyed 
her,  and  blotted  out  all  her  life  to  make  way  for 
his  factories,  and  mines,  and  dockyards,  and  weary 
miles  of  shoddy  suburb — there  is  no  landscape 
there,  nor  any  subject  for  Vital  Art,  An  experi- 
ment or  two  may  be  made,  as  Turner  showed,  at 
Dudley  and  Newcastle,  but  it  is  not  an  experiment 
that  bears  much  repetition. 

It  must  be  understood,  however,  that  it  is  not 
the  presence  of  man  that  destroys  the  subject  of 
Art,  far  from  it ;  but  the  presence  of  incomplete 
man, — man  in  his  rough  and  coarse  selfishness, 
getting  all  he  can  out  of  Nature, , and  making  a 
slave  of  her ;  not  satisfied  to  rule  by  obeying 
Nature's  laws.  When  man  becomes  more  civilised 
he  makes  his  dwellings  and  surroundings  beautiful ; 
and  himself  he  adorns  and  refines,  until  no  fairer 
subject  for  a  great  picture  can  be  imagined  than 
the  Acropolis  of  Athens  in  its  glory,  or  the  festivals 
and  functions  in  Florence  or  Venice.  Such  were 
the  subjects  presented  by  those  ancient  cities  to 
the  artists  who  immortalised  their  names  ;  and 
these  scenes  of  splendid  architecture,  with  their 
population  of  heroic  figures,  were  the  products  of 
the  national  policy  and  economy. 

Therefore  one  condition  of  Art  is  that  the 
country  should  be  beautiful  and  the  people  noble. 
This  is  called  Ruskin's  Sentimentalism  ;  but  the 
reader  who  has  followed  the  argument  so  far  will 


XII  The  Political  Economy  of  Art        205 

see  that,  however  Utopian  his  doctrines  may- 
sound,  they  have  a  basis  of  fact.  Decorative  Art 
begins  in  feeding  and  clothing  all,  and  in  making 
the  externals  of  life  beautiful,  for  it  is  impossible 
for  a  strong  and  vital  artistic  feeling  to  coexist 
with  squalor  (Z.  ^.,  §  121).  Trades  and  manufac- 
ture requiring  the  use  of  fire  destroy  the  beauty  of 
the  country  ;  landscape  Art  can  only  exist  where 
there  is  landscape  scenery  ;  it  coexists  with  agri- 
culture, not  with  widely  extended  mining  and 
manufacturing,  which  deform  alike  the  homes  and 
the  persons  of  the  inhabitants  {L.  A.,  §  123),  No 
true  Art  can  develop  without  previous  elevation  of 
the  populace  out  of  barbarism  into  civilisation  ; 
the  peasant  must  learn  to  say  his  grace  before 
drink,  as  well  as  his  grace  before  meat  {L.  -^.,  § 
1 20) ;  his  labour  must  be  made  compatible  with 
dignity  and  intelligence  ;  his  home  and  surround- 
ings must  become  pleasant  and  beautiful  ;  and 
then  the  evolution  of  a  new  and  nobler  Art  is 
begun. 

Of  late  years  we  have  seen  much  realistic 
painting  of  dirt  and  disorder,  powerfully  done, 
appealing  to  benevolence,  purging  by  pity  and 
terror.  But  such  work  is  merely  didactic  ;  it  may 
be  useful  in  its  way,  but  it  does  not  aspire  to  the 
union  of  Truth,  Imagination,  and  Beauty,  which 
has  marked  the  confessedly  greatest  reaches  of 
the  Art.  And  without  denying  the  use  of  such 
pictures,  we  cannot  place  them  in  the  same  rank 
with  the  realisation  of  noble  ideals. 

It  is  objected,  of  course,  that  the  sacrifice  is  too 
great.      For   all   our   manufacture   and  commerce 


2o6  Art-Teaching  of  Rti skin  ^hap. 

are  we  to  get  only  a  few  painted  canvases  and 
carved  stones  ?  If  we  are  to  choose  between  a 
cotton -mill  and  a  Titian — a  home-bred  Artist, 
index  of  the  achieved  crown  of  civilisation,  warrant 
of  widespread  rectitude  and  purity  of  life,  token 
of  true  faith  in  whatever  creed  may  present  itself 
as  ultimately  believable  ;  proof  of  a  lovely  land 
nobly  inhabited — which  are  we  to  choose  ? 

95.  Art-Wealth. — In  a  commercial  state,  pic- 
tures and  sculpture  and  all  that  Art  can  do  are 
looked  upon  as  commodities  whose  value  is  what 
they  will  fetch.  The  extension  of  our  trade  has 
made  us  more  jealous  of  foreign  genius  than  con- 
scious of  our  own  limitations — more  anxious  to 
sell  our  rubbish  than  to  buy  their  masterpieces 
{L.  ^.,  §  6),  and  such  Art  as  is  cultivated  is  valued 
for  its  price  in  the  market.  But  if  the  Sociology 
of  Art  teaches  anything,  it  teaches  that  no  vital 
Art-skill  can  be  developed  with  a  view  to  money- 
getting  ;  it  must  be  the  outcome  of  an  evolution 
on  the  normal  lines  (Z.  ^.,  §  7),  and  so  Ruskin  has 
always  strongly  combated  the  movements  which 
seek  to  teach  Art  to  the  people  as  a  paying 
trade. 

Whatever  does  us  good  is  wealth  ;  and  the  good 
it  does  us  cannot  be  always  measured  by  money. 
Money  will  not  buy  Art,  if  it  be  not  in  the  market ; 
and  it  is  not  in  the  market  unless  it  is  grown  on  a 
fit  soil,  from  proper  seed,  under  the  right  conditions. 
Much  imitation  of  it.  Sham  Art,  there  is  ;  but  the 
real  article  is  rarely  come  by ;  and,  when  it  is 
found,  goes  at  the  price  of  the  imitation  article. 
Its  true  value  is  not  to  be  measured  by  its  cost  in 


xii  The  Political  Economy  of  Art        207 

pounds,  shillings,  and    pence.      What   then  is  its 
true  value  ?  (/.  E.,  Lect  i.) 

Art  is  wealth,  because  it  can  do  for  us  two 
things  that  cannot  be  otherwise  acquired  :  it  gives 
the  highest  and  most  lasting  pleasure,  and  it  is 
the  truest  and  easiest  means  for  instruction.  That 
Art  is  a  pleasure  to  the  spectator — when  it  is  real 
Art,  and  the  spectator  is  civilised  enough  to  under- 
stand it — goes  without  much  saying  ;  that  it  is  a 
pleasure  to  the  artist  has  been  commonly  believed 
until  lately,  when  some  writers  of  more  sympathy 
than  insight  have  taken  to  bemoaning  the  lot  of  the 
poor  artist  who  cannot  paint  as  well  as  he  wants 
to,  and  cannot  sell  his  work  when  it  is  done.  To 
all  this  sentimentalism  there  is  a  short  answer, 
rude  but  not  unkind  :  If  you  do  not  like  painting, 
do  not  think  anybody  will  like  your  picture.  Take 
to  some  easier  form  of  Art  work  ;  be  a  decorator 
or  a  carver.  If  you  mean  that  you  find  it  hard  to 
grow  rich  on  painting,  thank  your  stars  that  you 
can  be  an  honest  man.  The  very  greatest  artists 
made  a  fair  competence  by  dint  of  industry  and 
frugality ;  and  much  of  the  best  work  in  all  ages 
has  been  done  for  next  to  nothing.  And  if  your 
distaste  for  work  is  a  mere  distaste  for  work,  not 
for  Art,  do  not  give  the  lie  to  your  nature,  but  call 
things  by  their  right  names.  Most  real  artists  are 
never  happy  unless  they  are  painting  ;  all  civilised 
nations  and  persons  get  their  greatest  pleasure  out 
of  one  or  other  of  the  Fine  Arts. 

Secondly,  it  is  the  best  means  of  instruction. 
Not  only,  though  this  is  a  great  thing,  that  it 
keeps  history  alive,  but  to  what  extent  they  are 


2o8  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

aided  by  the  Plastic  and  Graphic  Arts  is  shown 
by  the  development  of  book-illustration,  the  use 
of  museums,  the  modern  dioramic  lecture.  Through 
the  eye  the  mind  is  most  easily  reached  and 
securely  held.  And  when  the  student  can  draw, 
and  studies  his  natural  history,  or  geography,  or 
mineralogy,  or  whatever  it  be,  with  the  pencil  in 
his  hand,  he  never  fails  to  learn  more,  to  observe 
more  closely,  to  remember  more  clearly  whatever 
he  has  once  drawn.  As  a  help  to  school-teaching 
it  is  only  now  gradually  being  understood  that 
drawing  and  modelling  can  be  used  with  un- 
paralleled effect ;  but  Ruskin  pointed  that  out  in 
clear  language  over  thirty  years  ago  {Pol.  Econ.  of 
Art,  Lect  ii.,  1857). 

What  money  can  buy,  what  mill  can  weave, 
the  wizard  cloak  that  brings  the  wearer  happiness  ? 
What  mine  can  deliver  up  the  magic  crystal 
through  which  man  sees  the  things  of  heaven 
and  earth  in  the  light  of  universal  law?  And 
that  is  what  a  real  and  vital  Art  can  do  when  it 
is  nationally  understood  and  practised.  It  is  the 
means  of  civilisation  and  the  measure  of  culture. 

96.  Discovery. — The  labour  of  an  individual  or 
of  a  nation  suffices  for  all  needs,  and  the  political 
economy  of  Art,  as  of  any  other  product,  is  the 
science  of  finding  and  using  this  kind  of  wealth 
in  the  people  and  for  the  people.  How  far  this 
is  the  business  of  the  Government,  as  we  now 
constitute  governments,  may  be  doubted  ;  but  if 
we  understand  by  government  all  organised  effort 
for  regulating  our  affairs,  it  is  plain  that  we  may 
direct  our  present  organisations  either  well  or  ill. 


xii  The  Political  Economy  of  Art        209 

Writing  long  before  recent  Socialism  was  in  the 
air  (J.  E.),  Ruskin  showed  that  there  are  certain 
duties  incumbent  on  the  community  at  large,  in 
whatever  form  its  spirit  be  considered  to  be  dis- 
played and  administered  ;  and  that  when  those 
duties  are  neglected  Art  decays.  An  ideal 
commonwealth  would  reflect  and  enforce  them  ; 
as  things  stand,  there  are  bodies  of  artists  incor- 
porated for  the  purpose  of  governing  the  world  of 
Art,  and,  what  is  a  still  greater  power,  there  is  the 
press  and  the  opinion  of  patronising  society.  In 
St.  George's  Commonwealth,  the  imagined  Utopia 
which  Ruskin,  imitating  Plato,  has  pictured,  a 
paternal  government  would  doubtless  efficiently 
control  the  production  and  distribution  of  Art. 
But  in  this  present  world  we  find  as  real  a  power 
in  the  hands  of  the  community.  People  are  not 
ambitious  enough,  he  says  ;  they  are  content  to 
be  merchants  when  they  might  be  counsellors  and 
rulers.  One  thing  should  be  noted  in  Ruskin's 
Utopian  scheme,  that  he  does  not  allow  the 
justice  of  the  demand  for  education  and  employ- 
ment unless  the  government  that  gives  it  has 
the  right  and  power  to  direct  it ;  there  must  be 
a  qjiid  pro  quo.  Remember  also  that  he  does 
not  believe  in  retrogression  ;  he  believes  in  the 
old-fashioned  virtues  of  Loyalty  and  Faith,  but 
not  in  any  recurrence  to  ancient  modes  of  admi- 
nistration. (The  next  four  headings  are  noted 
from  J.  E.) 

To  discover  Art  is  the  first  requirement.  Art 
cannot  be  made,  any  more  than  gold  can  be  made. 
Teaching  can  develop  it,  but  it  must  be  there  to 

P 


2 1 o  Art- Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

begin  with  ;  but  since  the  products  of  a  nation 
suffice  for  its  needs,  native  art-power  of  the  right 
sort  for  native  use  is  sure  to  be  available.  Much 
exists  among  the  lower  classes  —  no  "  artless 
peasantry"  is  possible  (Z.  A.y  §  79);  but  much 
of  it  is  wasted  by  the  employment  of  men,  who 
might  be  artists  in  the  minor  crafts,  upon  mechani- 
cal labour.  The  artificers  who  are  now  engaged 
in  manufacture  might,  in  many  cases,  be  more 
usefully  and  profitably  engaged  upon  decorative 
work,  which  would  bring  out  their  true  capacities, 
and  give  them  a  higher  and  happier  life.  The 
discovery  of  this  latent  talent  could  be  made  in 
school-time  by  proper  teaching  and  uncompetitive 
examination  ;  it  could  be  further  developed  and 
sifted  by  employment  upon  public  works.  Since 
the  time  when  this  advice  was  given  steps  have 
been  taken  in  many  places  towards  the  attainment 
of  this  Utopian  ideal.  The  minor  arts  are  coming 
into  prominence,  and  schools  are  formed  here  and 
there  which  select  and  train  the  talent  which  has 
been  found  to  exist  more  widely  than  was  sus- 
pected, and  work  has  been  made  for  capable 
workmen  in  newly- established  arts  and  crafts. 
But  these  affairs  are  only  in  their  infancy,  so  long 
has  it  taken  for  the  advice  given  in  1857  to 
fructify. 

Another  way  in  which  Art  can  be  discovered 
is  by  wise  criticism,  sound  and  kindly  ;  apprecia- 
tive of  rising  power ;  discriminative  of  mere 
cleverness  and  solid  endeavour ;  undisturbed  by 
popular  clamour  and  passing  fashion.  This  is  a 
Utopian  ideal  indeed. 


xn         The  Political  Economy  of  Art        211 

97.  Application. — The  talent  once  found  must 
be  saved  and  utilised  ;  it  must  not  be  permitted 
to  blaze  up  into  premature  popularity,  nor  to  be 
crushed  out  by  adversity  and  oblivion  and  the 
competition  of  worthless  rivals.  The  struggle  for 
life  is  not,  according  to  Ruskin,  the  law  of  God  ; 
and  so  far  from  the  survival  of  the  fittest  being 
its  result  in  Art,  it  tends  to  eliminate  genius  and 
to  exalt  the  astute  manufacturer  of  popular  goods. 

In  the  public  works  of  which  he  has  spoken 
he  points  out  that  the  young  workman  should  be 
set,  first  to  various  work,  for  the  variety  is  stimu- 
lating ;  there  is  more  done  for  the  money,  because 
the  worker  is  interested  in  what  he  is  doing. 
Secondly,  to  easy  work  ;  that  is,  in  material  which 
lends  itself  to  plastic  form,  as  marble  opposed  to 
granite — still  more,  to  diamond -cutting.  And 
thirdly,  to  lasting  work,  which  will  accumulate  and 
add  to  the  wealth  of  the  country.  An  enormous 
amount  of  real  talent  is  thrown  away  upon  illus- 
trations, decorations,  dress,  and  other  forms  of 
luxury  that  perish  with  the  using  ;  that  serve  only 
for  the  period  of  the  fashion,  and  then  are  de- 
stroyed. Work  of  all  kinds  should  be  in  the 
most  lasting  material,  and  the  public  should  buy 
only  what  they  mean  to  keep.  On  which  subject 
Mr.  Ruskin  has  said  many  things  in  all  his  work, 
and  his  Utopian  ideal  is  now  beginning  to  be 
recognised  by  the  better  class  of  workers  and 
buyers  everywhere. 

98.  Accumulatio7i. — The  permanence  of  Art  has 
this  fancied  drawback,  that  without  such  waste 
as  hitherto  has  kept  the  supply  down,  we  might 


212  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

be  flooded  with  Great  Art.  There  is  no  very 
serious  fear  upon  that  score  ;  the  present  prices 
for  really  good  work  are  such  as  to  be  prohibitive 
to  middle-class  buyers,  who  are  forced  to  content 
themselves  with  reproductions,  and  to  make  believe 
that  the  manufactured  copy  is  equal  to  the  ori- 
ginal. Not  that  much  cleverness  is  not  shown  in 
these  art-manufactures  of  chromolithography  and 
engraving,  but  the  high  general  average  of  these 
products  fatigues  the  public  taste  (L.A.,  §  lo),  and 
the  colourable  imitations  they  present  of  Real  Art 
tend  to  confuse  the  public  judgment,  and  insidi- 
ously to  weaken  it.  It  may  be  good  that  every 
cottage  has  its  picture  on  the  wall ;  but  habituation 
to  the  vulgarised  effectiveness  and  tawdry  clever- 
ness of  the  "  Christmas  Supplement "  can  only 
result  in  a  loss  of  feeling  for  more  refined  Art. 
One  sight  a  year — one  glimpse  in  a  lifetime — of 
really  great  work  gives  a  lifelong  impetus.  What 
artist  does  not  recollect  some  one  picture  or 
statue,  seen  for  a  moment  in  his  youth,  and 
pedestalled  in  his  memory  ever  since  as  the  ideal 
of  his  aspirations  and  the  stimulus  of  his  endea- 
vours ?  And  in  a  house  full  of  cheap  prints  who 
cares  enough  about  them  to  do  anything  for  their 
sake  ?  As  a  matter  of  fact  they  are  neglected, 
or  if  noticed,  blunt  the  eye  and  mind.  They  are 
only  fit  for  the  vulgar. 

Now  it  would  be  much  better  if  every  house- 
hold could  barter  all  the  prints  and  photographs 
it  possesses  for  one  real  work  of  Vital  Art,  which 
would  furnish  perennial  pleasure  and  instruction  ; 
and  when   the  nation    is  more  civilised   and   the 


XII  The  Political  Economy  of  Art        213 

people  begin  to  understand  the  difference  between 
Living  Art  and  Sham,  the  demand  for  better 
things  will  increase.  It  is  perhaps  true  that  our 
cheap  reproductive  Art  is  a  stage  in  advance  of 
the  inartistic  past ;  it  may  perhaps  be  true  that 
the  highest  standards  are  not  "  practical  "  ;  but  it 
is  a  question  now  of  ideals  and  not  of  opportunism, 
of  principle  and  not  of  makeshift ;  and  so  judged 
the  cheap  reproductions  of  the  day  are  condemned 
by  this  political  economy  as  crowding  out  the  real 
wares,  and  standing  in  the  way  of  the  demand  for 
Real  Art. 

If  the  power  now  directed  to  this  kind  were 
put  into  original  work,  there  would  be  no  fear  but 
prices  would  come  down,  and  pictures  and  craft- 
products  would  be  plenty.  The  over-production 
of  True  and  Vital  Art  need  not  be  feared  at 
present.  And  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  the  spectator 
— and  still  more  the  student — learns  more  by 
spending  a  day  with  a  single  good  picture  in  some 
country  house  than  by  expatiating  in  all  the  wealth 
of  the  National  Gallery  ;  that  is,  he  learns  more  of 
the  secrets  of  Art,  for  the  dates  of  the  painters 
and  so  forth  are  not  part  of  artistic  knowledge. 
Therefore  it  is  conceivable  that  the  time  might 
come  when  good  Art  should  be  over-accumulated  ; 
but  as  that  will  be  long  hence — in  the  decadence 
of  the  period  to  which  we  are  now  struggling  up 
out  of  barbarism — we  must  expect  it  as  necessary 
and  accept  it  as  inevitable. 

Meanwhile  the  waste  of  great  work  that  has 
gone  on  in  the  world  has  been  enormous  :  waste 
by  war,  by  mouldering  decay  of  bad   material,' by 


214  Art-  Teach ing  of  Ruskin  chap. 

neglect,  by  contemptuous  destruction,  and — most 
gratuitous  and  blameworthy  of  all — by  "  restora- 
tion." One  form  of  wise  economy  is  the  preser- 
vation by  whatever  means,  at  home  and  abroad,  of 
the  monuments  of  past  Art ;  in  example  of  which 
Mr.  Ruskin  suggested  that  wealthy  Manchester 
men  might  buy  some  of  the  ar^cient  palaces  at 
Verona,  as  they  buy  modern  villas  near  Florence, 
and  preserve  them  from  Austrian  bombardment, 
then  anticipated  ;  but  the  Manchester  men  did 
not  quite  grasp  his  meaning  at  the  time, 

99.  Distribution. — As  Art  is  useful  for  instruc- 
tion, the  placing  of  good  pictures  and  ornaments 
in  schools — at  least  in  the  higher  schools — would 
help  to  fix  the  attention  and  inform  the  mind. 
For  this  purpose  scientific,  archaeological,  and 
didactic  Art  is  useful ;  the  "  High  Art "  of  the 
historical  painter  has  no  appeal  to  boys,  they 
use  the  Academical  cartoon  on  their  school  stairs 
as  a  target  for  pen-darts  (believe  an  eye-wit- 
ness). But  that  is  no  proof  of  the  fallacy  of 
Ruskin's  doctrine,  rather  the  reverse.  Pictures  and 
objects  of  Art  are  found  in  many  schools  to  be 
most  powerfully  influential  and  sincerely  admired  ; 
but  they  must  be  living  Art — that  is,  not  his- 
torical "  high  "  Art.  Schools  and  churches  and  all 
buildings  where  men  assemble  for  amusement,  or 
instruction,  or  deliberation,  should  be  decorated 
with  the  best  work  that  can  be  got ;  they  are  the 
proper  places  upon  which  to  bestow  the  wealth  for 
which  there  is  no  money  value.  At  railway 
stations  we  do  not  assemble  for  amusement  or 
instruction,  but  only  to  get  out  of  them  as  quickly 


XII  The  Political  Economy  of  Art        215 

as  possible  ;  consequently  it  is  not  to  be  allowed 
that  railway  stations  are  fit  and  proper  objects 
for  decoration  ;  and  yet  by  the  perversity  of  our 
anarchic  economy  the  most  attractively  ornamented 
of  our  public  buildings  are  stations  and  restaurants 
— the  one  kind  as  an  apology  for  their  existence  ; 
the  other  with  intention  and  character  purely 
meretricious. 

There  are,  however,  pictures  that  cannot  be 
hung  in  a  school  or  a  church,  nor  counted  part 
of  the  decoration  of  a  modern  building — the 
monumental  works  of  old  masters,  valuable  to  us 
from  historical  associations  and  as  standards  of 
artistic  achievement.  The  most  obvious  destination 
for  such  things  is  the  museum  or  gallery  ;  and  so 
long  as  private  houses  are  closed  to  the  student 
and  sightseer,  and  ordinary  public  buildings  in- 
harmonious with  ancient  Art  of  the  more  ideal 
kind,  it  is  necessary  to  maintain  museums.  There 
are,  however,  these  objections  :  that  a  foolish 
curator  may  make  them  useless  by  bad  arrange- 
ment, or  the  introduction  of  ill-chosen  examples, 
or,  worst  of  all,  by  "restoring"  works  whose  in- 
terest is  in  their  authenticity  and  their  beauty  in 
qualities  too  subtle  for  the  eye  and  mind  of  the 
populace.  Still,  these  great  works  are  public  heir- 
looms, not  to  be  appraised  in  money  value,  nor 
to  be  grasped  by  private  purchasers,  but  to  be  kept 
by  the  nation  at  large  in  national  treasuries,  from 
which  base  and  Sham  Art  must  be  excluded. 

Modern  Art,  however,  intended  to  appeal  to 
modern  men  and  women  in  the  midst  of  their 
ordinary  employments,  ought  not  to  be  withdrawn 


2 1 6  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

from  the  sphere  of  its  immediate  influence.  It 
ought  to  be  found  in  the  household,  in  the  street, 
in  the  school,  in  the  place  of  assembly.  While 
even  a  glimpse  of  a  great  work  is  stimulating,  the 
full  power  of  good  Art  does  not  tell  upon  the 
mind  without  perpetual  presence  and  ever-recurring 
influence  ;  and  it  is  the  test  of  goodness  that  this 
presence  is  not  wearying,  like  that  of  shams.  Con- 
sequently every  civilised  home  ought  to  contain 
its  work  of  Real  Art — one  being  enough  ;  and 
quantity  always  and  in  everything  must  be  sub- 
ordinated to  quality. 

100.  The  Wages  of  Art. — To  this  end  the 
price  of  pictures  should  be  kept  down,  so  that 
every  one  may  possess  his  specimen  or  two — not 
his  gallery — of  really  good  and  great  and  pleasure- 
giving  and  instructive  Art.  Such  broadcast  dis- 
tribution would  not  impoverish  the  artist ;  for 
the  free  purchase  of  modern  work  at  moderate 
prices  would  stimulate  at  once  the  supply  and  the 
demand  ;  for  every  picture  is  an  advertisement  of 
the  right  sort — a  sample  which  can  be  tested  and 
tasted  by  all  comers. 

It  is  not  the  amount  of  money  expended  by 
the  buyer  that  helps  or  ensures  the  production  of 
Art ;  it  is  the  amount  of  brains  and  of  taste.  It 
is  perfectly  open  to  any  one  to  study  the  principles 
by  which  a  picture  is  to  be  judged,  and  a  civilised 
and  educated  man  is  assumed  to  have  made  this 
study  part  of  his  education  ;  buyers  who  con- 
tribute only  the  money  and  none  of  the  judgment 
are  justly  looked  down  upon  as  ignorant  and 
boorish.     On   the  other   hand,  the   confidence  in 


XII  The  Political  Economy  of  Art        217 

the  light  of  nature  displayed  by  some  buyers  of 
individualistic  character  is  as  misleading  as  it 
would  be  in  the  selection  of  a  medicine  ;  anybody 
can  study  the  principles  of  Art,  but  without  such 
study  very  few  persons  may  venture  to  offer  an 
opinion. 

The  mere  expense  of  a  picture,  the  richness 
of  decorative  material,  the  rareness  of  the  article, 
and  so  on,  are  nothing  to  the  question.  Art  is 
at  its  work  when  it  is  giving  beautiful  and  quaint 
forms  to  common  and  useful  things,  such  as  stuffs 
adapted  for  everyday  use  {T.  P.,  §  96).  The 
Wages  of  Art  are  earned  in  the  consciousness  of 
widespread  pleas.ure  and  instruction,  in  the  know- 
ledge of  function  fulfilled,  in  the  reflection  of  an 
instinct  satisfied.  And  the  true  artist  who  identi- 
fies himself  with  the  spirit  of  Art  can  more  or  less 
accept  this  point  of  view.  In  order  to  work  he 
must,  however,  live. 

The  plan  of  employing  young  artists  upon  public 
buildings — as  carvers  and  decorative  painters  and 
so  on — has  been  noticed  above.  The  wages  at 
such  work  should  be  equable  and  moderate  ;  the 
worse  men,  instead  of  being  underpaid,  should  be 
weeded  out  and  set  to  other  employments  ;  the 
better  men,  instead  of  being  flushed  with  praise 
and  pay,  should  be  kept  in  steady  and  full  occu- 
pation, but  withheld  from  overtaxing  their  powers 
by  taking  more  on  their  hands  than  they  can 
accomplish. 

Then  when  they  are  past  the  journeyman  stage, 
the  best  condition  for  their  healthy  progress  and 
occupation    would    be    the    mean    between    great 


2 1 8  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

success  and  great  neglect  Low  prices,  stimulating 
industry  but  ensuring  sale  (not  more  than  ;^I00 
for  a  water-colour  and  ^^500  for  an  oil-painting, 
Ruskin  said  in  1857);  steady  patronage  of  living 
artists  and  living  Art,  as  opposed  to  doubtful  "  old 
masters "  and  acknowledged  cheap  copying  and 
imitation  ;  no  high  fancy  prices  to  tempt  real 
painters  astray,  to  induce  persons  of  more  ingenuity 
than  talent  to  paint  pot-boilers  and  infringe  the 
unwritten  law  of  the  copyright  of  style.  Many  of 
the  mistakes  of  patronage  are  due  to  the  artists, 
who  abuse  its  favour  and  merit  its  caprice.  The 
relations  of  the  consumer  and  producer  are  just 
the  same  in  this  business  as  in.  any  other  busi- 
ness. The  reaction  of  supply  and  demand  still 
holds  good  ;  the  consumer  tempts  the  producer 
to  supply  the  inferior  article,  and  the  producer 
tempts  the  consumer  to  demand  it ;  but  this 
happens  only  in  a  bad,  barbarous,  or  decadent 
condition  of  society  ;  it  indicates  a  low  state  of 
public  morality ;  it  is  not  a  law  of  nature,  only  a 
symptom  of  disease.  Even  at  the  worst  times  a 
really  good  picture  is  always  ultimately  bought 
and  approved,  unless  deformed  by  faults  which 
the  artist  is  too  proud  or  too  weak  to  correct 
{L.  A.,  §  7). 

1 01.  The  Work  of  Art. — Two  uses  of  Art 
have  been  noticed  in  this  chapter  as  contributing 
wealth  of  an  especial  kind  to  the  common  fund  : 
the  pleasure  derived  from  it,  and  the  instruction  it 
preserves  and  conveys.  Above,  we  saw  that  Art 
"  enforces  religion,  perfects  morality,  and  per- 
forms material  service  "  (Z.  A.,  §  66)  ;  so  that  one 


XII  The  Political  Economy  of  Art        219 

use  has  yet  to  be  considered,  the  material  service 
— the  contribution  to,  not  the  mental  and  spiritual, 
but  the  physical  needs  of  man.  This  involves 
the  notion  of  Art  as  an  activity,  not  as  a  mere 
language  ;  and  it  is  based  on  a  much  wider  view 
than  Ruskin  at  first  adopted. 

The  first  beginnings  of  civilisation  are  seen  in 
the  arts  of  pottery,  dress,  architecture,  smithy- 
work,  and  so  on  ;  and  it  is  the  law  of  these 
industries  in  their  early  and  normal  evolution  that 
the  useful  shape  is  also  the  artistic  one  ;  in  pro- 
portion as  the  structure  is  logically  developed, 
the  aspect  is  beautiful,  that  is,  it  pleases  the 
eye  and  the  imagination.  This  is,  of  course, 
complicated  when  we  come  to  the  more  elaborate 
works  of  more  advanced  civilisation,  because  the 
whole  thing,  and  its  whole  use,  are  not  seen  at 
any  one  time  in  the  unity  which  makes  the  logical 
development  of  a  cup,  or  a  cloak,  or  a  simple  stone 
building,  or  iron  ploughshare,  so  harmonious.  But 
for  a  long  way  Art  and  Craft  necessarily  go  hand 
in  hand,  and  it  is  not  impossible  for  them  to  retain 
their  hold  upon  one  another  to  the  end.  The 
point  where  they  part  company  is  the  point  at 
which  the  normal  requirements  of  human  life  pass 
into  luxury  and  display  ;  the  eye,  till  then  satisfied 
with  simple  and  logical  beauty,  wants  fanciful  and 
startling  form  ;  the  mind  finds  a  new  delight,  but 
a  perilous  one,  in  bizarre  effects,  where  construc- 
tion and  ornamentation  are  opposed.  This  is  not 
necessarily  wrong,  but  it  is  not  necessarily  right ; 
and  in  the  cases  in  which — as  in  Italian  marble 
decoration — there  is  no  deception  attempted,  but 


2 2 o  Art- Teach ing  of  Ruskin  chap. 

a  useful  and  preservative  outer  coating  is  given  to 
masonry,  or  in  painted  woodwork,  or  in  any  other 
legitimate  concealment  of  structure — in  these  cases 
a  subordinate  use  replaces  the  primary  one,  and 
the  law  is  not  contradicted. 

Wherever  Art  is  useless,  where  ornament  is 
illogical,  and  Beauty  combats  with  Truth,  the 
decadence  sets  in.  After  all  is  said  that  can  be 
said  about  higher  aims,  the  question  still  remains  : 
"  What  use  is  this  picture,  or  carving,  or  embroidery, 
or  building?"  and  the  more  completely  Use  and 
Beauty  have  been  fused  together,  the  more  per- 
fectly are  the  ends  of  Art  answered.  And  in 
these  days  again,  as  in  the  earlier  times  when  the 
earth  had  to  be  reclaimed  for  man's  use,  and  its 
powers  brought  into  his  hand,  we  need  this  simple 
and  economic  work  of  Art  ;  we  need  the  beginnings 
of  a  new  and  extended  civilisation  to  replace  the 
makeshift,  disorderly,  sordid,  and  squalid  modes  of 
life  to  which  men,  as  a  whole,  have  lately  been 
accustomed.  And  the  raising  of  the  lower  classes 
is  not  to  be  done  by  beginning  at  the  wrong  end, 
by  giving  them  museums  and  music-concerts, — 
but  by  setting  the  arts  to  their  primitive  use,  and 
bidding  them  make  homes  and  clothes  and  the 
utensils  and  means  of  living,  at  once  useful  and 
beautiful  for  all  (Z.  A.,  Lect.  iv.)  "  The  Fine  Arts 
are  not  to  be  learned  by  locomotion,  but  by 
making  the  homes  we  live  in  lovely,  and  by  stay- 
ing in  them  ;  not  by  competition,  but  by  doing 
our  quiet  best  in  our  own  way ;  not  by  exhi- 
bition, but  by  doing  what  is  right,  and  making 
what  is  honest,  whether  it  be  exhibited  or  not 


XII  The  Political  Economy  of  Art        221 

and,  for  the  sum  of  all,  men  must  paint  and  build 
neither  for  pride  nor  for  money,  but  for  love — for 
love  of  their  art,  for  love  of  their  neighbour,  and 
for  whatever  better  love  may  be  than  these,  founded 
on  these." 


CHAPTER    XIII 

ARCHITECTURE 

1 02.  The  Genesis  of  Art. — There  are  two  ways  of 
getting  at  the  Laws  of  Art,  as  distinct  from  the 
recapitulation  of  the  rules  of  any  given  school : 
one  way  is  the  a  priori  high  road,  starting  from 
present  requirements,  treading  the  apparently  firm 
ground  of  common  sense  and  logical  deduction,  and 
arriving  at  ideal  perfection  ;  the  other  way  is  the 
historical  method,  which  starts  from  the  beginnings 
of  civilisation,  traces  the  course  of  development, 
like  some  ancient  road  over  mountain  and  moor, 
from  one  necessary  vantage-point  to  another 
through  intervening  morass  or  wild  wood  —  the 
variable  track  of  human  progress  to  achieved 
results.  The  first  way  is  not  always  so  safe  as  it 
looks  ;  and  the  second  not  so  sufficient  as  it 
should  be,  considering  the  labour  spent  in  tracing 
it.  But  the  two  methods  mutually  check  one 
another,  and  neither  is  to  be  held  a  complete 
survey  of  the  ground. 

Mr.  Ruskin  has  used  both  methods  in  the  study 
of  the  laws  of  Architecture  ;  the  a  priori  in  parts 
of  The  Seven  Lamps,  in  the  first  volume  of  The 


CHAP.  XIII  Architecture  223 

Stones  of  Venice,  and  in  the  Lectures  07i  Architect- 
ure and  Painting.  So  far  as  these  contain  error 
of  judgment,  it  has  been  caused  by  pushing  com- 
mon sense  to  extremes,  as  he  himself  confesses  in 
several  places.  The  historical  method  he  has 
followed  in  the  later  volumes  of  The  Stones  of 
Venice  and  in  parts  of  TJie  Seven  Lamps,  as  where 
he  traces  the  development  of  intersecting  Flamboy- 
ant mouldings.  In  his  Oxford  Lectures  he  makes 
more  use  of  the  historical  method  than  in  his  early 
period  ;  and  if  he  had  written  the  intended  course 
on  Architecture,  we  might  perhaps  have  had  this 
Art  treated  as  sculpture  is  treated  in  Aratra 
Pentelici.  As  it  is,  we  can  gather  that  he  regards 
all  Art  as  originating  from  common  necessities  of 
the  human  body  and  soul,  and  returning  to  them 
again  ;  so  that  fantastical  ideals  must  be  continu- 
ally checked  and  limited  by  actual  requirements, 
and  the  a  priori  standard  borne  forward  or  back- 
ward with  wise  generalship. 

All  Art  begins  in  agriculture,  and  in  satisfying 
the  first  needs  of  man  by  dealing  with  easily 
accessible  materials — wood,  stone,  clay,  metal, 
wool,  and  so  on.  While  requirements  are  simple, 
and  among  races  that  are  intelligent  and  rising, 
Use  and  Beauty  go,  more  or  less,  together.  When 
life  becomes  complicated,  Art  becomes  complicated ; 
when  it  is  luxurious.  Use  and  Beauty  part  company 
altogether.  But  when  the  period  is  run,  the  arts 
need  to  be  recalled  to  their  original  use,  in  order 
— if  for  nothing  else — to  recover  their  original 
beauty.  Hence  Art  in  general,  Architecture  'in 
particular,  is  founded  on   Political  Economy,  and 


2  24  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

needs  repeated  contact  with  its   parent  earth  to 
keep  it  in  vigour  {L.  A.,  Lect.  iv.) 

But  the  historical  method,  though  it  explains 
the  strange  developments  and  the  differentiation 
of  Use  and  Beauty,  goes  no  further ;  it  hardly 
gives  ground  of  criticism,  which,  for  present  needs, 
we  require.  It  explains  the  reason  of  rules  and 
limitations  of  architectural  design  as  survivals, 
tacit  references  to  previous  usage  and  first  inten- 
tions. But  the  time  comes  when  the  reference  is 
no  longer  conscious,  not  even  in  the  shape  of 
religious  tradition,  and  then  the  peculiarities  of 
style,  which  were  the  outcome  of  common  sense  at 
first,  but  become  debased  by  tradition,  are  seen  to 
be  absurd.  Common  sense  steps  in  again  ;  a  priori 
considerations  evolve  a  new  model  to  suit  new 
needs. 

Climate  and  material  are,  therefore,  not  the 
only,  or  even  chief,  conditions  of  style  ;  nor  is 
tradition  sufficient  to  lay  down  the  law.  Com- 
mon sense  and  precedent  alternately  react  on  one 
another.  Precedent  may  not  perpetuate  an  ab- 
surdity, once  felt,  but  absurdity  does  not  exist  until 
it  is  felt. 

And  so  the  historical  genesis  of  Architecture  is 
not  sufficient  to  establish  its  aesthetic  laws,  because 
full  and  ideal  development  was  in  every  case 
checked  or  spoiled  by  human  weakness,  or  the 
course  of  politics,  or  some  such  curious  fallacy  as 
that  which  led  the  Greeks  to  carry  out  in  stone  a 
design  originally  intended  for  wood — ^justifiable  by 
precedent  for  them,  but  not  for  us. 

103.  A  priori  Development  of  A  rchitecture. — In 


XIII  Architecture  225 

order  to  give  an  example  of  pure  ideal  and  common 
sense  in  its  unchecked  action,  Mr.  Ruskin  plays 
with  his  read.er  a  game  of  house-building,  like  that 
of  constitution-framing  in  Plato's  Republic  (S.  V., 
vol.  i.  chaps,  iii.-x.)  Assuming  the  requirements 
of  a  not  very  complicated,  but  not  insufficient, 
civilisation,  and  plenty  of  materials,  without  such 
special  abundance  as  would  lead  to  exclusive 
employment  of  any  one  kind ;  assuming  also 
entire  innocence  of  public  taste,  without  prejudice 
or  precedent  in  view,  with  no  stupidity  to  combat  or 
sloth  ;  he  gradually  deduces  a  perfect  style,  a  sort 
of  Fairyland  Gothic,  the  Architecture  of  Utopia. 
But  he  proceeds  to  show  that  a  very  near  approach 
to  this  ideal  was  made  in  Venice  at  her  best  time  ; 
and,  indeed,  when  one  feels  happy  and  imagin- 
ative, there  seems  no  reason  why  we  should  not 
colonise  Utopia.  But  the  flesh  is  weak  ;  whence 
the  importance  to  Art  of  Political  Economy  and 
Ethics. 

An  ideal  is  none  the  less  valuable  because  we 
cannot  reach  it ;  and  this  ideal  of  Stones  of  Venice 
has  strongly  impressed  the  imagination  of  the 
country.  Domestic  Gothic,  from  being  almost 
unknown  or  clumsily  imitated  after  ecclesiastical 
models,  has  become  frequent  and  conveniently 
planned  ;  so  much  so  that  fine  designs  are  to  be 
found  in  almost  any  street  of  any  town,  suggested 
originally  by  this  book,  and  derived  from  Venetian 
Gothic.  But  Derivative  Art  is  not  Vital  Art ; 
merely  to  copy  the  design  is  not  to  produce 
equivalent  work.  The  modern  Gothic  is  Sham 
Art  because  it  reproduces  a  plausible  imitation  of 

Q 


2  26  Ari-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

the  form,  while  the  spirit  is  not  there  to  reanimate 
it,  Mr.  Ruskin's  intention  was  to  set  up  a  high 
ideal,  and  to  show  how  nearly  that  ideal  was 
reached  by  a  nation  with  high  capacities  for  other 
things  than  building, —  a  high  ethical  standard 
which  involved  the  free  and  powerful  exercise  of 
artistic  faculties  by  all  the  workmen  employed, 
so  that  their  art  was  the  natural  outcome  of  their 
whole  being.  His  disappointment  is  that  the 
world  has  "  put  the  cart  before  the  horse,"  and 
rests  delighted  with  a  cheap  copy,  bungled  and 
blundered,  of  the  works  that  should  have  stimu- 
lated it,  not  to  ingenious  plagiarism,  but  to  an 
ampler  and  nobler  life  {S.  F.,  vol.  ii.  pref  3d  ed.) 

104.  Architecture  as  a  Fine  Art. —  Ingenuity 
is  the  first  requisite,  without  which  no  building  is 
possible ;  but  however  clever  the  adaptation  of 
plan  to  use,  of  means  to  end,  of  material  to 
stability,  and  so  forth,  it  is  not  reasoning  power 
that  makes  Architecture  a  Fine  Art.  The  mere 
copying  of  old  models  is  Constructive  Art,  like 
the  mere  arrangement  of  a  suitable,  economical 
plan  ;  but  it  is  not  Fine  Art,  which  comes  into 
being  only  as  evidence  of  human  emotion  in  doing 
the  work  (§  15),  or,  as  it  may  be  otherwise  stated, 
of  affection,  strongly  shown  and  rightly  placed 
{S.  v.,  vol.  i.  chap,  ii.)  Intellectual  Art  is  not 
Fine  Art ;  Emotional  Art  is  "  fine." 

Consequently,  that  Architecture  which  is  simply 
derivative — the  reproduction  or  restoration  or  imi- 
tation of  ancient  work,  whether  classic  or  Gothic,  is 
not  Fine  Art ;  neither  is  the  building  of  unadorned 
works     of     utility  —  rows     of    dwelling  -  houses, 


xiif  Architecture  227 

factories,  bridges,  and  so  on.  It  becomes  Fine 
Art  only  when  it  admits,  in  a  preponderating  degree, 
the  elements  of  emotional  interest.  Beauty  and 
Imagination  ;  and  it  is  "  fine "  in  proportion  to 
the  refinement  of  Beauty  and  Imagination  dis- 
played, not  only  in  the  architect's  drawings  but  in 
the  completed  work  {L.  A.  P.,  §  60). 

It  can  never  free  itself  from  utilitarian  require- 
ment ;  nor  need  it  do  so  :  for  all  Art,  we  have 
seen,  is  to  be  useful.  But  in  a  Fine  Art  the 
usefulness  is  not  the  End,  it  is  the  Use  ;  and  the 
End  is  higher  than  the  Use  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  chap. 
i.),  even  though  both  jump  together  and  are 
popularly  confounded.  We  may  consider  Archi- 
tecture, as  a  mere  Constructive  Art,  a  parallel  to 
engineering ;  or  we  may  consider  it  as  a  Fine 
Art,  parallel  to  painting  ;  but  we  must  be  quite 
certain  which  sort  of  Architecture  we  mean.  Mr. 
Ruskin  writes  of  it  as  of  a  Fine  Art,  he  does  not 
thereby  dignify  all  buildings  with  the  style  and 
title  of  Works  of  Art,  nor  all  architects  with  that 
of  artists,  except  in  the  looser  and  lower  meaning 
of  the  term. 

105.  Laws  of  Architecture, —  The  Seven 
Lamps  attempts  to  give  the  principal  laws  of 
building  considered  as  a  Fine  Art,  irrespective  of 
adaptation  to  modern  use  and  convenience.  These 
laws  are  not  all  the  same  with  those  of  Sculpture 
and  Painting,  because  these  latter  handle  their 
material  without  question  of  resistance  to  force  ; 
while  Architecture  must  take  that  important  modi- 
fication of  the  conditions  into  account  {A.  P.,  §  4). 
Thus  we  get  two  broad  classes  of  Art,  the  one 


2  28  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

employed  in  colouring  or  shaping  its  material 
with  little  or  no  reference  to  strength  and  stability  ; 
and  the  other,  including  all  "  arts  and  crafts," 
employed  in  "  decorating  useful  objects  " — a  mis- 
leading term,  suggesting  that  the  object,  a  house 
or  a  tool,  is  made  first  and  decorated  afterwards  ; 
whereas,  to  be  Fine  Art,  the  object  must  be  con- 
ceived from  the  beginning  as  useful  and  beautiful 
at  the  same  time. 

Mr.  Ruskin  finds,  as  in  the  general  question  of 
Beauty,  that  these  practical  laws  are  analogues  of 
moral  ones  (5.  L.  A.,  Introd.),  and  he  groups 
them  under  seven  headings,  not  exhaustively  or  ot 
necessity,  but  simply  to  bring  out  that  analogy : 
(i)  Sacrifice^  or  the  principle  of  thoroughness,  (2) 
Truth,  or  sincerity  refusing  all  deceits,  such  as 
misleading  suggestions  of  structure  {e.g.  the  pend- 
ants to  late  Gothic  roofs,  and  the  use  of  iron  as 
support  and  not  merely  as  cement,  which  is  legiti- 
mate) ;  as,  again,  painting  imitative  of  material  or 
sculpture,  not  being  confessedly  decorative  ;  and 
cast  or  machine-made  work  in  material  that  can, 
and  ought  to,  be  hand-worked.  (3)  Power,  giving 
an  effect  of  size  and  solemnity,  which  is  done  in 
judicious  choice  of  site,  and  in  wise  arrangement 
of  plan,  so  that  the  whole  mass  strikes  the  eye  at 
once  ;  and  of  elevation,  in  the  disposition  of  light 
and  shade  in  broad  masses,  as  in  painting.  (4) 
Beauty,  or  a  reference  to  natural  forms  and  colours 
as  standards  of  typical  and  vital  Beauty.  (5)  Life 
or  vitality — that  is,  it  must  be,  and  be  seen  to  be, 
the  work  of  men  who  liked  what  they  did,  worked 
with  a  will,  put  their  heart  into  it,  or  it  is   Sham 


XIII  Architecture  229 

Art.  (6)  Memory  —  that  is,  it  should  not  be 
ephemeral — "  Build  nothing  you  can  possibly  help, 
and  let  no  land  on  building  leases  "  ;  but  build  for 
posterity,  and  preserve  the  monuments  of  the 
past.  (7)  Obedience,  by  which  the  author  means 
that  true  vitality  or  originality  does  not  consist  in 
creating  a  new  style,  for  no  quite  new  style  is 
possible  (7".  P.,  §  loi),  but  in  developing  an  old 
one  ;  a  position  illustrated  in  the  pamphlet  on  the 
Crystal  Palace,  and  by  the  remark  that  to  perfect 
a  style  is  the  work  of  ages — Titian  did  not  invent 
oil-painting  {T.  P.,  §  102). 

We  have  here  suggestions  of  a  series  of  prin- 
ciples, beginning  with  the  intellectual  and  moral 
conditions  peculiar  to  Architecture,  and  ending 
with  aesthetic  considerations  which  it  shares  in 
common  with  other  Decorative  Arts.  Ideas  of 
Truth  and  Power  involve  the  construction  and 
issue  in  differences  of  style ;  Ideas  of  Beauty 
involve  the  aspect  and  issue  in  questions  of  pro- 
portion and  ornamentation. 

Great  Architecture,  like  great  painting,  need 
not  be  on  a  colossal  scale,  but  some  magnitude  is 
generally  required  for  the  display  of  its  capacities. 
The  Crystal  Palace  is  huge,  but  not  Great  Art ; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  excessive  finesse  as  a 
principle  is  apt  to  shrink  into  mere  display  of 
polish  and  cabinetmaker's  precision.  To  get  the 
full  value  of  whatever  size  be  given  is  the  object 
of  a  good  elevation  ;  and  that  object  is  most  com- 
pletely attained  in  the  Early  Italian  styles  which 
provide  for  a  massive  wall  with  coping  or  machi- 
colation, strongly  traversed  by  arcades  or  varied 


230  A  rt-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

forms  of  opening,  showing  dark  upon  the  surface. 
This  feature  of  Romanesque  Architecture  is  the 
mean  between  the  light  and  shade  system  of 
Gothic,  which  gets  dark  spaces  by  foliations  ;  and 
that  of  Greek,  which  makes  its  columns  tell  in 
lines  of  light  on  dark,  and  loses  breadth,  which  in 
architectural  design,  as  in  painting,  is  the  source 
of  power  and  effect. 

In  design  of  lines,  as  distinct  from  chiaroscuro 
(which  ought  to  be  a  separate  and  conscious  aim 
of  the  architect),  breadth  and  power  are  shown  by 
squareness  in  general  surface  and  rectangularity  in 
the  divisions  of  it  (as  opposed  to  the  features  upon 
it).  In  Greek  the  wall  is  concealed  by  columns  ; 
in  Flamboyant  and  Perpendicular  it  is  practically 
concealed  by  tracery  ;  in  Romanesque  it  is  dis- 
played in  great  part,  and  decorated. 

The  roof,  which  is  pointed  to,  in  the  Oxford 
Lectures  {L.  A,  ^  122,  anticipated  in  L.  A.  P., 
§  17),  as  the  chief  feature,  is  not  so  prominently 
treated  in  The  Seven  Lamps.  If  "  the  best  Archi- 
tecture was  but  a  glorified  roof,"  then  we  should 
expect  to  find  the  construction  of  the  roof  taken 
as  fundamental  principle,  as  the  wall  is  taken  in 
^.  L.  A.  The  chapter  treating  of  the  roof  in 
S.  V.  (vol,  i.  chap,  xiii.)  is  slight  compared  with 
those  upon  other  Architectural  features  ;  so  that 
it  is  greatly  to  be  regretted  that  Mr.  Ruskin  never 
carried  out  his  intention  of  giving  an  Oxford 
course  on  Architecture — modifying,  perhaps,  or 
amplifying  .his  earlier  works. 

106,  Styles. — Such  a  series  of  lectures  would 
no  doubt  have  examined  Greek  Architecture  with 


XIII  Architecture  231 

some  interest,  as  Aratra  Pentelici  examines  Greek 
Sculpture.  In  his  earlier  period  the  author  was 
too  much  engaged  in  preaching  Gothicism  against 
the  world  to  pay  much  attention  to  real  Greek 
Art ;  and  though  he  expressly  states  that  his 
animadversions  on  classicism  are  directed  against 
Renaissance  and  modern  imitation  of  classic 
models,  yet  there  is  nowhere  any  counterbalancing 
interest  shown  in  the  originals. 

The  usual  "  orders "  of  Classic  Architecture 
are  not  respectfully  treated  by  Mr.  Ruskin,  who 
points  to  the  final  transition  of  classic  Art  into 
Byzantine  and  Romanesque  to  show  that  there 
are  naturally  only  two  orders  of  capitals,  the  con- 
vex and  the  concave  ;  the  one  Doric,  developing 
into  Romanesque,  Byzantine,  Norman^  and  Lom- 
bard ;  and  the  other  Corinthian,  the  parent  of  Gothic 
{S.  v.,  vol.  i.  chap.  i.  §  1 7).  To  these  a  third  may  be 
added  by  a  combination  of  both  (5.  V.,  vol.  i.  chap, 
vi.  §  5) ;  but  the  two  types  are  analogues,  the  author 
finds,  of  Discipline  and  Freedom  respectively,  and 
divide  the  world  between  them  (read  5.  V.,  vol. 
i.  chap,  xxvii.) ;  for  it  is  difference  in  temper  that 
makes  different  races  and  ages  build  differently 
(S.  v.,  vol.  i.  p.  360).  And  so  there  are  three  main 
schools,  illustrating  three  main  varieties  of  human 
culture  :  the  Greek,  using  the  Lintel,  least  ingenious 
in  construction,  most  limited  in  scope  ;  in  Egypt, 
sublime  ;  in  Greece,  pure  ;  in  Roman  hands,  rich  ; 
in  Renaissance,  effeminate.  Next,  Romanesque, 
using  the  round  arch,  not  thoroughly  developed 
until  Christian  times ;  then  differentiating  into 
Byzantine  and   Lombardic,  changing  respectively 


232  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

into  Arabian  Gothic  and  Teutonic  Gothic.  "  Its 
most  perfect  Lombardic  type  is  the  Duomo  of 
Pisa,  its  most  perfect  Byzantine  type  (I  believe) 
St.  Mark's  at  Venice.  It  perishes  in  giving  birth 
to  another  Architecture  as  noble  as  itself"  Last, 
Gothic^  using  the  gable,  springing  up  in  an  Eastern 
and  Western  School,  derived  from  Romanesque 
{S.  v.,  vol.  ii.  p.  215).  On  this  scheme  all  Archi- 
tecture can  be  arranged,  not  separating  classic 
from  modern  styles,  as  though  there  were  no  bridge 
between — as  in  schoolbooks  they  separate  ancient 
and  modern  history  ;  but  recognising  that  they 
are  based  on  the  same  laws,  and  at  their  best  have 
some  principles  and  points  in  common,  of  which  the 
chief  is,  that  both  rise  to  their  greatest  height  simul- 
taneously with  the  art  of  Sculpture,  decoratively 
treated ;  that  both  are  finest  when  considered  most 
distinctly  as  Fine  Arts,  and  designed  by  artists, 
not  mere  engineers.  It  would  have  been  interesting 
to  have  had  an  analysis  of  the  best  Greek  archi- 
tectural ornament — even  if  only  of  those  remains 
which  Mr.  Ruskin  has  seen  in  Sicily — such  as  he 
has  given  of  Gothic,  Byzantine,  and  Romanesque. 
But  of  these  he  has  written  at  length,  more 
than  I  could  hope  to  condense.  It  must  suffice 
to  point  the  reader  to  his  works,  which  on  these 
subjects  are  lucid  enough  to  require  no  comment. 
They  ought  to  be  read,  marked,  analysed,  and 
digested  in  the  student's  notebooks.  TAe  Seven 
Lamps,  and  the  second  and  third  volumes  of  Stones 
of  Venice,  Mornings  in  Florence,  and  St.  Mark's 
Rest  describe  the  rise,  greatness,  and  decay  of  the 
various  Christian  styles,  especially  French  Gothic, 


xiii  Architecture  233 

which  he  rates  at  its  best  in  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury, though  here  and  there  rising  still  higher  in 
the  fourteenth  :  the  Byzantine,  Gothic,  and  early 
Renaissance  of  Venice, — not  the  noblest  of  all,  but 
the  most  affectionately  and  completely  studied 
—  the  palaces  and  tombs  of  Verona  ;  the  twelfth- 
century  Romanesque  of  Lucca,  especially  the 
now  "  restored "  S.  Michele  ;  the  Baptistery  and 
Cathedral  of  Pisa ;  and,  chiefest  of  all,  the  Cathedral 
group  of  Florence,  with  Giotto's  Tower. 

107.  Proportion  and  Decoration. — In  all  these 
styles  there  are  two  artistic  elements — proportion 
and  ornamentation.  It  has  been  the  habit  of 
architects  to  rank  proportion  as  the  especially 
architectural  mystery  and  method  of  aesthetic  dis- 
play. Mr,  Ruskin  points  out  that  proportion  is 
not  peculiar  to  Architecture  ;  it  is  the  first  founda- 
tion of  all  design  {L.  A.  P.,  Addenda).  The  rules 
usually  given  for  good  proportion  are  useless, because 
good  design  is  like  good  composition  in  music,  a 
thing  above  rules  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  part  i.  chap,  vi.) 
There  is  only  one  rule — have  one  large  thing 
and  several  smaller  things,  or  one  principal  and 
several  inferior,  and  bind  them  well  together  ;  it 
must  not  be  confounded  with  symmetry,  and  must 
be  between  three  terms  at  least.  Symmetry  is 
shown  in  lateral  arrangement  in  the  plan,  propor- 
tion in  the  elevation,  and  should  vary  in  ascent 
from  the  base.  Succession  of  equal  things  is  not 
proportion,  though  repetition  is  sometimes  effective 
(5.  L.  A.,  chap,  iv.)  And  yet,  however  well  man- 
aged, proportion  has  little  influence  ;  it  does  not 
comfort,  amuse,  or  inform  the  spectator  ;  whereas 


234  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

Architecture  should  use  whatever  power  it  has  to 
please  and  instruct,  or  it  is  not  a  Fine  Art  {T.  P., 
§§  103-109). 

This  power  lies  in  its  ornamentation  by  forms 
(sculpture)  and  colour ;  consequently,  a  building 
which  is  bare  of  ornament,  however  ingenious  its 
proportions,  is  still  only  on  the  borderland  of  artistic 
creation.  But  at  the  same  time  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  without  proportion  nothing  further  is 
possible.  The  designs  of  Byzantine  palaces  at 
Venice  are  delicately  and  exquisitely  varied  in  pro- 
portion ;  no  Architecture  can  be  great  without  it ; 
but  it  gives  no  title  of  itself  to  greatness.  Even  in 
the  arrangement  of  the  masses  of  light  and  dark, 
obtained  by  arcades,  colonnades,  foliations,  and  so 
on,  something  more  than  the  proportion  of  straight 
lines  is  required.  Abstract  curvature,  pictorial  com- 
position, at  once  demand  the  exercise  of  imagina- 
tive power  which  no  rules  can  teach. 

108.  Sculptured  Oriiarnent. — The  fallacy  that 
a  building,  or  any  other  object,  can  be  designed  in 
one  frame  of  mind,  and  then  decorated  with  super- 
added, detachable  ornament  in  another  mood,  or 
by  another  person,  is  the  cause  of  the  comparative 
contempt  in  which  decoration  is  held.  But  no 
Great  Art  is  thus  produced  in  Architecture,  no 
more  than  in  other  departments  ;  if  the  architect 
leans  all  his  force  on  the  construction,  he  is  a 
builder  and  not  an  artist — a  useful  man,  no  doubt, 
but  not  a  creator  of  Fine  Art. 

And  in  reviewing  the  examples  of  the  greatest 
periods  Mr.  Ruskin  finds  that  perfect  adaptation 
and  execution  of  ornament  goes,  as  a  matter  of  fact. 


XIII  Architecture  235 

hand  in  hand  with  the  best  and  wisest  construction 
possible  to  the  style.  When  the  sculpture  is  best, 
the  style  is  best ;  and  this  is  a  natural  consequence 
of  the  Political  Economy  of  Art.  For  it  means  that 
the  workman  is  an  artist  as  well  as  the  architect, 
and  that  the  public  taste  is  highly  developed  and 
sensitive.  But  in  times  of  division  of  labour,  when 
the  architect  is  a  gentleman  and  a  man  of  intellect, 
and  the  actual  workmen  are  mere  mechanics,  there 
is  no  unity  of  Art,  nor  any  unity  of  the  resultant 
work,  so  closely  do  aesthetic  and  ethical  considera- 
tions intermingle  and  combine. 

The  treatment  of  ornament  is  therefore  the 
final  and  crowning  virtue  of  Architecture,  and  the 
real  difficulty  of  the  Art,  because  it  is  not  enough 
to  insert  any  beautiful  carving,  as  it  is  not  enough 
to  hang  any  beautiful  painting  on  the  walls — the 
ornament,  to  be  ornament,  must  be  designed  for 
its  place  (5.  F!,  vol.  i.  p.  231).  Mr.  Ruskin  has 
gone  so  far  as  to  say  that  Architecture  is  the  art 
of  designing  sculpture  for  building  {L.  A.  P.,  App. 
to  Lect.  ii.) — a  statement  which  must  be  well 
understood  and  guardedly  quoted,  as  his  extreme 
expression  of  the  difference  between  merely  con- 
structive building  and  Architecture  as  a  Fine  Art. 
The  laws  involved  in  architectural,  as  well  as  in  all 
decorative  treatment,  require  separate  discussion, 
under  the  head  of  Design  and  Decoration,  in  which 
we  shall  see  how  Mr.  Ruskin  regards  the  question 
of  conventionalisation  and  abstraction,  and  what 
he  considers  to  be  the  right  subject  or  material  of 
ornament.  Meanwhile,  the  principles  peculiar  to 
Architecture  may  be  briefly  summed  up. 


236  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

The  place  of  carving  should  be  that  in  which 
it  is  best  seen — at  the  bottom  of  the  building — 
diminishing  in  finish,  but  increasing  in  effect,  to- 
ward the  top  {L.  A.  P.,  §  39).  It  should  bear 
close  inspection  {S.  L.  A.,  chap,  iv.  Aph.  22),  and 
no  less  should  it  have  its  effect  when  seen  from 
afar  (J!  P.,  §  125) — that  is,  it  should  be  treated 
as  an  artist  would  treat  it,  giving  the  greatest 
attention  and  best  position  to  the  noblest  subject, 
bringing  ex  forti  diilcedinem.  The  proper  points 
for  emphasis  by  different  kinds  of  ornament  are 
discussed  in  6".  V.,  vol.  i.  chaps,  xxii.-xxix.,  that 
is,  the  relation  of  Decoration  to  Construction. 

109.  Oniametit  mid  Structure.  —  Pugin  and 
others  held  that  ornament  ought  always  to  ex- 
hibit and  adorn  the  constructive  features  of  Archi- 
tecture, an  idea  whose  source  we  have  traced 
already  (§  100)  to  the  beginnings  of  Art  and 
Civilisation.  But  Architecture  worthy  of  the  name 
arises  only  when  the  first  simple  culture  changes 
into  the  stage  when,  without  corruption,  it  becomes 
complicated.  Like  painting,  which  is  greatest  on 
the  imminent,  deadly  verge  of  decadence,  it  cul- 
minates when  rude  and  primitive  simplicity  has 
given  place  to  more  ambitious  and  varied  detail, 
which  became  ultimately  regarded  as  separable, 
and  the  decorator  grew  to  be  another  person  from 
the  builder.  Thus  we  get  two  extreme  views — one 
that  all  ornament  is  developed  construction,  and 
the  other  that  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  construc- 
tion. Mr.  Ruskin  takes  the  historian's  position, 
and  shows  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  in  some  of 
the  finest  architecture  ever  created,  the  ornament  is 


XIII  A  rchitecture  237 

not  structural.  But  on  the  other  hand,  while  it 
conceals^  it  does  not  deny,  structure  ;  and  the  pend- 
ants and  pliant  lines  of  Flamboyant  work  are  to 
be  judged  on  a  different  footing,  as  denials  of 
truth,  from  the  marble  casing  of  Italian  buildings, 
which  confesses  its  office  as  protector  of  the  wall 
from  weather,  and  only  conceals  the  interior  struc- 
ture as  the  skin  conceals  the  flesh  ( V.  cTA.,  §  145  ; 
A.  P.,  §  24,  and  elsewhere). 

This  marble  casing  has  another  office  ;  it  is  a 
kind  of  enlarged  mosaic,  decorating  by  means  of 
colour.  The  later  Italians,  indeed,  used  colour  in 
Fresco  painting  freely,  outside  as  well  as  inside 
their  walls  ;  and  when  done  in  a  masterly  way, 
with  good  result.  But  not  only  is  Fresco  liable 
to  damage  by  weather,  and  so  against  the  principle 
suggested  by  the  "  lamp  of  memory,"  but  it  is  so 
supremely  difficult  to  apply  rightly  that  it  cannot 
be  considered  among  the  usual  methods  of  decora- 
tion. Mosaic  and  marble  casing  come  more  within 
the  sphere  of  architectural  possibilities  {S.  L.  A., 
chap.  ii.  ;  ^.  V.,  vol.  ii.  chap,  iv.),  and  still  more 
easy  and  adaptable  is  the  variegation  of  the  wall 
by  different  coloured  masonry  laid  in  courses  or 
patterns — the  roughest  sort  of  mosaic. 

We  have  therefore  two  sorts  of  ornament — 
sculpture  and  mosaic,  form  and  colour  ;  and  the 
study  of  Architecture  is  not  complete  until  we 
have  learned  how  to  treat  form  and  colour,  not 
imitating  Nature,  but  adorning  use. 

I  10.  Architectural  Colour. — And  yet  the  laws 
of  Art  are  best  learnt  from  the  observance  of 
Nature ;   and    though    Architectural   ornament   is 


238  Art-  Teach hig  0/ Ruskin  chap. 

not  to  be  a  congeries  of  imitated  objects,  it  is  to 
be  treated  as  Nature  would  treat  it.  Now  the 
colour  of  Nature  does  not  emphasise  the  form  ; 
it  ornaments  the  animal,  or  the  flower,  or  the 
mountain,  by  partial  confusion  and  concealment  of 
structure.  And  in  good  Architecture  the  colour- 
ing should  not  bring  out  the  forms,  but  cross 
them  and  dapple  them ;  considering  the  whole 
building  as  one  object,  and  not  as  an  accumulation 
of  different  coloured  objects. 

Thus,  mouldings  should  not  be  painted  of  dif- 
ferent colours,  nor  columns  striped  vertically,  nor 
the  ground  of  sculptured  reliefs  coloured  differently 
from  the  figures ;  but,  as  in  Nature,  the  colour 
should  play  about  the  surface,  interchanging  and 
complicating  the  forms  {S.  L.  A.,  chap,  iv.)  And 
the  safest  and  best  method  of  colouring  is  that 
obtained  in  the  use  of  variegated  material,  which 
is  always  delicate  and  varied  in  tint  and  gradation 
— another  justification  for  the  marble  casing  of  the 
early  Italians. 

But  if  the  colour  is  to  complicate  the  form  it 
should  be  strongest  where  the  form  is  least  inter- 
esting— that  is,  on  broad  surfaces — and  absent 
where  the  form  is  in  itself  interesting  enough  to 
require  the  eye's  undivided  attention.  So  that 
the  Sculpture  of  capitals  and  bases,  of  friezes  and 
panelling,  is  better  when  no  colour  interferes. 
And  this  is  the  reason  why  we  are  more  pleased 
with  colourless  Sculpture,  which  represents  ar> 
abstraction,  an  idea ;  while  the  building  itself,  a 
real  thing,  may  be  as  legitimately  coloured  as  any 
other  real  thing  in  the  world. 


XIII  A  Kchitecture  239 

These  principles  are  summed  up  in  one  para- 
graph (5.  L.  A.,  chap.  iv.  §  43),  which  requires  of 
Architecture  "  considerable  size,  exhibited  by  simple 
terminal  lines  ;  projection  towards  the  top  ;  breadth 
of  flat  surface  ;  square  compartments  of  that  sur- 
face ;  varied  and  visible  masonry  ;  vigorous  depth 
of  shadow,  exhibited  especially  by  pierced  traceries  ; 
varied  proportion  in  ascent ;  lateral  symmetry — 
Sculpture  most  delicate  at  the  base,  enriched 
quantity  of  ornament  at  the  top  ;  Sculpture  ab- 
stract in  inferior  ornaments  and  mouldings,  com- 
plete in  animal  forms,  both  to  be  executed  in 
white  marble  ;  vivid  colour  to  be  introduced  in 
flat  geometrical  patterns,  and  obtained  by  use  of 
naturally  coloured  stone."  And  the  example  given 
of  this  perfect  manner  is  Giotto's  Campanile  at 
Florence. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

DECORA.TION 

III,  The  Rank  of  Decorative  Art. — The  architect 
— the  "  artist  considered  as  building  " — in  making 
a  window  may  surmount  it  with  nothing  but 
plain  stone,  or  he  may  add  mouldings  for  the 
sake  of  beauty,  or  he  may  carve  leaves  and  birds 
above  it,  or  he  may  set  Michelangelo's  Night 
and  Day  over  it  in  consummate  sculpture.  The 
mouldings,  the  leaves,  and  the  figures  are  all 
Decorative  Art.  In  framing  a  door  he  may  panel 
it  with  oak,  plain  and  simple,  or  cover  it  with 
Ghiberti's  bronze  ;  the  panelling  and  the  metal- 
work  are  both  Decorative  Art.  In  finishing  a 
wall  he  may  whitewash  it,  or  paper  it,  or  stencil 
it,  or  cover  it  with  tapestry,  or  paint  it  in  Fresco, 
or  stretch  a  canvas  over  it  with  Titian's  Assump- 
tion or  Tintoret's  Paradise.  These  are  all  stages 
of  Decorative  Art  (T.  P.,  §  73).  All  fixed  Art 
is  decorative,  however  it  may  vary  in  excellence ; 
so  long  as  it  is  adapted  to  its  position  it  belongs 
to  the  same  class.  And  as  it  may  be  the  finest 
Art  in  the  world,  Decorative  Art  ranks  with  the 
highest.     There  is  no  necessary  inferiority  in  it ; 


CHAP.  XIV  Decoration  241 

the  painter  of  easel  pictures,  or  the  modeller 
of  portrait  busts,  is  rated  higher  than  the  house- 
painter,  not  because  he  pursues  a  different  calling, 
but  only  when  he  does  better  work — work,  that  is 
which  brings  out  a  greater  sum  of  human  capacity, 
bodily  and  spiritual. 

But  there  is  a  difference  between  the  calling  of 
the  architect  or  decorative  craftsman  and  that  of 
the  painter  or  sculptor  pure  and  simple.  All 
Fine  Art  involves  skill  and  beauty  ;  but  the 
Graphic  Arts  (under  which  term  Mr.  Ruskin  in- 
cludes sculpture  as  well  as  painting  in  this  con- 
nection) involve  skill,  beauty,  and  likeness  ;  while 
the  Architectural  Arts  involve  skill,  beauty,  and 
use. 

112.  Arts  and  Crafts. — The  Unity  of  Art  is 
a  doctrine  which,  I  believe,  Mr.  Ruskin  was  the 
first  to  teach,  though  it  is  now  very  generally 
accepted.  Until  lately  artists  were  supposed  to 
be  wandering  from  their  profession  if,  being 
portrait -painters,  they  attempted  landscape  ;  if, 
being  oil -painters,  they  tried  fresco ;  if,  being 
Academicians,  they  painted  scenes,  or  wrought  in 
metal,  or  meddled  with  any  of  those  crafts  which 
were  supposed  not  long  since  to  be  the  monopoly 
of  manufacture.  But  by  this  division  of  labour 
all  the  Arts  suffered  at  once  {A.  P.,  §  6).  The 
professional  painters  lost  versatility  of  hand  and 
breadth  of  sympathy,  and  the  trades  lost  the 
example  and  stimulus  of  imaginative  work  ;  all 
they  could  get  from  the  artist  was  a  design,  which 
was  always  spoiled  by  mechanical  execution.  It 
was  not  so  in  Greece,  or  in  the  Middle  Ages  or 

R 


242  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

in  the  earlier  times  of  the  Renaissance,  and  it  will 
not  be  so  in  the  future. 

But  it  does  not  follow  from  this  doctrine  that 
all  crafts  are  alike  honourable.  That  Art  is 
greatest  into  which  the  most  varied  and  highest 
energies  are  put  That  is  why  Mr.  Ruskin  does 
not,  like  the  Germans,  rank  Music  as  the  highest 
Art ;  for  in  Music  there  is  not  the  scope  for  all  the 
powers  that  can  be  displayed  in  Painting,  while 
the  execution  and  composition  of  Painting  employ 
those  powers  which  are  shown  in  Music.  Litera- 
ture, again,  while  it  gives  play  to  intellectual  and 
emotional  faculties,  does  not  require  the  physical 
organisation  of  the  painter  or  sculptor  ;  all  Fine 
Art — Graphic  Art — is  essentially  athletic.  And 
so  there  is  a  difference  between  the  higher  forms 
of  decoration  and  the  lower,  in  proportion  as  they 
admit  the  whole  sum  of  human  energy  or  only 
a  part.  Some  are  rightly  called  Minor  Arts,  be- 
cause their  scope  is  limited,  whether  by  purpose 
or  by  material ;  for  in  every  Art  there  are  certain 
excellences,  peculiar  to  it  alone,  arising  from  the 
very  limitations  which  narrow  its  range.  An  Art 
is  base  unless  it  brings  out  the  distinctive  qualities 
of  its  material  {T.  P.,  §  160);  but  when  those 
qualities  are  such  as  to  hamper  thought  or  inven- 
tion or  representation  the  craft  is  inferior  in  rank 
to  Sculpture  and  Painting,  which,  however  decora- 
tive, give  the  freest  possible  play  to  the  highest 
possible  faculties. 

113.  Technical  Conditions. — The  Minor  Arts 
may  be  subordinated  to  two  great  heads  — 
Sculpture  (with  Engraving)  and  Painting.     When 


xrv 


Decoration  243 


Sculpture  uses  ductile  material  it  is  plastic  \  when 
it  uses  stone  (or  wood  or  rigid  metal)  it  is  glyptic 
{A.  P.,  §  152).  When  Painting  works  in  ground 
colours  it  produces  fresco  and  all  the  other  sorts, 
down  to  miniature  and  illumination  of  books.  But 
it  may  use  tiles  or  tesserae  or  slabs  of  coloured 
stone,  and  then  it  is  Mosaic  of  one  kind  or  another. 
It  may  work  in  transparent  glass,  and  become 
Glass-Painting  and  Staining  ;  or  it  may  work  with 
coloured  threads,  and  be  Tapestry  and  Embroidery 
and  the  decoration  of  Textile  fabrics.  But  each 
subordinate  department  has  its  own  standards  and 
limitations,  conditioned  by  material.  Art  is  one, 
but  Arts  are  many. 

The  beauty  of  a  clay  model  is  not  that  of  a 
carved  statue,  and  it  is  a  mistake  to  consider  such 
a  model  as  more  than  the  sketch  for  the  finished 
work.  A  sculptor  ought,  as  of  yore,  to  hammer  the 
marble  himself,  and  by  so  doing  he  would  learn 
the  capacities  of  it,  and  give  life  to  the  work,  and 
interest  beyond  any  that  can  be  imparted  by  a 
mechanical  workman  translating  his  model  by 
mechanical  means  {A.  P.,  §  178).  The  various 
kinds  of  bas-relief,  and  the  virtues  of  marble  as  a 
vehicle  of  Figure-Sculpture,  we  must  notice  under 
their  proper  heading ;  but,  in  a  word,  marble 
admits  a  sharp  edge  and  a  modelled  surface  in  a 
way  which  no  other  material  can  imitate,  and  this 
contrast  of  crispness  and  softness  is  the  special 
virtue  of  Sculpture  of  the  finest  kind  {S.  L.  A., 
ch.  iv.  §§  14-18).  But  it  does  not  admit  the  strong 
definition  of  outstanding  detail ;  it  is  absurd  to 
imitate  birds'  nests  in  solid  stone  ;  a  crisp  edge 


244  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

and  an  undulating  surface — what  more  does  an 
artist  want  ?  But  the  management  of  this  material, 
so  perfectly  achieved  in  the  architectural  Sculp- 
ture of  Italian  Gothic,  as  any  one  knows  who  has 
studied  and  drawn  it  with  care,  can  only  be  at- 
tained by  practical  handling  of  the  chisel,  and  it 
will  never  grace  the  buildings  of  modern  days 
until  our  designers  themselves  learn  to  carve  with 
their  own  hands  {T.  P.y  Preface).  And  when  we 
remember  that  architectural  and  sculptural  excel- 
lence have  always  gone  hand  in  hand,  we  must 
despair  of  great  deeds  in  building  until  the 
architects  turn  sculptors  {T.  P.,  §  39), — and  the 
philosophers  kings. 

Inferior  stones,  such  as  sandstone  or  chalk, 
admit  deep  cutting  and  picturesque  chiaroscuro, 
but  not  the  refined  surface  and  edge  {A.  P.,  §  158). 
Cast-metal,  on  the  other  hand,  does  not  allow  of 
the  edge  of  marble,  but  it  gives  more  facilities  for 
surface  than  common  stone  ;  and  by  chasing — in 
which  process  Sculpture  glides  into  Engraving — 
it  can  be  covered  with  infinitely  small  and  delicate 
detail.  Its  colour,  also,  is  ill  adapted  to  represent 
flesh,  consequently  the  worker  in  metal  must  lean 
on  picturesque  accessories.  When  sheet -metal  is 
used,  it  can  be  repoussd  into  bosses  without  sharp 
edge,  and  chased  ;  or  it  can  be  cut  into  strips  and 
twisted  into  fantastic  foliations,  whose  delicate 
curves  and  vital  beauty  it  is  quite  impossible  to 
reproduce  in  cast-iron.  In  all  cast-metal,  hand- 
finishing  is  the  necessary  condition  of  vitality, 
though  Stamping  is  to  Sculpture  what  Engraving 
is  to  Painting  {A.  P.,  §  157). 


XIV 


Decoration  245 


Most  of  these  technical  conditions  are  well 
known,  and  do  not  require  illustration  from  Mr, 
Ruskin's  Art-Teaching.  His  remarks,  however,  on 
Illuminating  and  Glass-Painting  are  not  so  well 
kept  in  mind  as  they  should  be.  Speaking  of 
Pen-Drawing  {L.  A.,  §  143),  he  says  :  "  In  nothing 
is  Fine  Art  more  directly  founded  on  utility  than 
in  the  close  dependence  of  Decorative  Illumination 
on  good  writing.  Perfect  Illumination  is  only 
writing  made  lovely  ;  the  moment  it  passes  into 
picture-making  it  has  lost  its  dignity  and  function. 
.  .  .  To  make  writing  itself  beautiful,  to  make  the 
sweep  of  the  pen  lovely,  is  the  true  art  of  Illumina- 
tion ;  and  I  particularly  wish  you  to  note  this, 
because  it  happens  continually  that  young  girls 
who  are  incapable  of  tracing  a  single  curve  with 
steadiness,  much  more  of  delineating  any  orna- 
mental or  organic  form  with  correctness,  think 
that  work,  which  would  be  intolerable  in  ordinary 
drawing,  becomes  tolerable  when  it  is  employed 
for  the  decoration  of  texts ;  and  thus  they  render 
all  healthy  progress  impossible,  by  protecting 
themselves  in  inefficiency  under  the  shield  of  a 
good  motive.  Whereas  the  right  way  of  setting 
to  work  is  to  make  themselves  first  mistresses  of 
the  art  of  writing  beautifully,  and  then  to  apply 
that  art  in  its  proper  degrees  of  development  to 
whatever  they  desire  permanently  to  write.  .  .  . 
Having  done  so,  they  may  next  discipline  their 
hands  into  the  control  of  lines  of  any  length,  and, 
finally,  add  the  beauty  of  colour  and  form  to  the 
flowing  of  these  perfect  lines."  The  MSS.  of  Miss 
Alexander,  the  author  of  The  Roadside  Songs  of 


246  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

Tuscany  (which  Mr.  Ruskin  met  with  twelve  years 
later),  are  an  example  of  this  beautiful  writing  in 
its  first  stage  of  development,  and  those  of  Mr. 
William  Morris  offer  the  most  perfect  specimens 
of  the  accomplished  art. 

Of  Glass -Painting,  which  Mr.  Ruskin  has 
studied  much,  though  he  has  not  written  what  he 
promised  about  it,  there  is  some  notice  in  The  Two 
Paths.  The  sum  of  the  doctrine  is,  that  as  it  is 
the  virtue  of  glass  to  be  transparent,  a  shaded 
picture  in  glass  is  barbarous  (Z.  A.,  §  186  ;  T.  /*., 
§  161).  The  variations  in  its  local  colour  give  all 
the  variety  of  tone  that  it  can  display  ;  but  there 
should  be  no  modelling  of  solid  form,  still  less 
shadow.  Its  colour  should  be  deep,  mysterious, 
and  subdued  ;  the  glass-painter's  aim  should  not 
be  brightness  but  mystery.  "  The  value  of  hue  in 
all  illuminations  on  painted  glass  of  fine  periods 
depends  primarily  on  the  expedients  used  to  make 
the  colours  palpitate  and  fluctuate  ;  inequality  of 
brilliancy  being  the  condition  of  brilliancy"  {T 
P.,  Appendix  5).  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  tried  to 
design  a  powerful  picture  for  New  College  window, 
and  "  was  grievously  disappointed  with  the  result," 
which  had  not  the  brilliancy  of  his  canvas  (7".  P., 
Appendix  2). 

114.  Conventional  Design  :  its  Reasons. — These 
technical  notes  are  given  here,  not  by  any  means 
as  a  resumd  of  the  subject,  but  as  indications  of 
the  current  of  our  author's  teaching — "  straws  to 
show  how  the  wind  blows."  We  learn  that  in 
Architecture,  and  in  all  the  Decorative  Arts,  some 
derogation  from  Imitative  Naturalism  is  inevitable, 


XIV  Decoration  247 

owing  to  conditions  of  material  {T.  P.^  §  78),  and 
these  conditions  must  be  always  kept  in  view,  or 
there  results  a  foolish  manner  of  decoration  parallel 
to  vulgar  deceptive  imitation. 

Moreover,  the  intention  of  the  architect  or 
decorator  may  limit  his  work — must  do  so  if  he 
is  to  regard  its  use  rather  than  its  representative 
capacity.  A  capital  or  a  cornice  must  be  a  capital 
or  a  cornice,  and  not  a  bunch  of  leaves,  frittered 
into  fragility,  or  a  wreath  of  flowers  whose  (stone) 
petals  may  fall  with  the  first  frost.  And  in  de- 
corating furniture,  implements,  and  utensils,  and 
so  on,  the  use  has  to  be  borne  in  mind  ;  in 
embroidering  drapery  the  folding  of  it  must  be 
allowed  for,  and  the  figures  so  drawn  that  their 
effect  may  not  be  lost,  but  even  heightened  into 
greater  richness  and  mystery,  when  it  is  not 
strained  flat  but  hanging  loose. 

This  decorative  intention  may  have  in  view 
either  the  place  or  the  office  of  the  work  iT.  P., 
§§  79t  8o)-  When  it  is  to  be  seen  from  a  distance, 
it  must  be  treated  accordingly  ;  it  is  no  merit  in 
Architectural  Sculpture  to  be  highly  "  finished," 
so  as  to  be  visible  only  from  a  ladder.  When  it 
is  to  be  subordinate  to  more  completed  work,  as 
the  frame  to  the  picture,  the  fringe  to  the  figure, 
the  leafage  to  the  statue,  it  is  to  be  treated  with 
less  elaboration  ;  but  never  losing  the  truth  of 
natural  curvature  as  far  as  the  elaboration  goes, — 
the  handling  or  draughtsmanship  in  which  the 
vitality  of  all  work,  Greek  or  Gothic,  or  what  not, 
everlastingly  consists.  But  to  get  this  vitality  of 
line  and  surface — indispensable  to  Vital  Art — the 


248  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

craftsman  must  be  as  good  an  artist  as  the  best  of 
them  ;  the  limitation  of  his  powers,  that  "  curbs 
his  liberal  hand,  subservient  proudly,"  is  very  dif- 
ferent from  inadequacy  of  power,  and  need  never 
be  confounded  with  bungling  or  perfunctory 
makeshift,  nor  can  it  ever  be  imitated  by  me- 
chanical means  or  untrained  hands. 

It  does,  however,  happen  that  in  the  infancy  of 
Art,  the  want  of  technical  appliances  and  methods 
has  turned  into  this  channel  the  energies  of  great 
genius.  The  very  absence  of  freer  and  completer 
facilities  for  expression  made  early  artists  put  all 
the  more  power  into  the  limited  scope  of  Decora- 
tion ;  and  so  we  find  the  best  Decoration,  as  such, 
in  the  ages  preceding  the  meridian  of  Art.  But 
the  men  who  did  the  work  were  just  as  great  men  ; 
the  early  masters  had  less  knowledge  but  quite  as 
great  powers  as  the  late  masters,  and  we  cannot 
rival  them  by  handing  over  Decoration  to  children 
and  incompetent  workmen  and  steam-engines. 

115.  Conventional  Design  :  its  Fallacies. — The 
notion  that  the  best  Decoration  is  the  product  of 
incomplete,  and  therefore  inadequate.  Art,  has  led 
to  the  fallacy  that  its  artistic  inadequacy  is  its 
virtue  ;  that,  whereas  in  picture-making  and  archi- 
tecture grand  proportion  and  intricate  composition 
are  virtues,  in  decoration  mere  symmetry  is  the 
right  principle  ;  that  colour,  which  must  always  be 
gradated  and  variegated  to  be  good  in  painting, 
may  better  be  flat  in  decoration  ;  that  form,  which 
must  have  meaning  when  pictorial,  should  have 
none  when  ornamental.  And  on  these  three  errors, 
originating  in  a  misconception  of  the  powers  of 


XIV 


Decoration  249 


early  designers,  as  well  as  in  a  misconception 
of  the  laws  of  all  Art,  our  modern  system  of 
pattern-making  is  based.  It  has  been  strengthened 
in  its  erroneous  position  by  the  necessities  of 
mechanism,  which  can  reproduce  flat  colour,  and 
symmetrical  pattern,  and  nonsense  form,  with  more 
ease  and  cheapness  than  beautiful  colour  and  in- 
finitely varied  form.  And  so  we  have  accustomed 
ourselves  to  a  superabundance  of  so-called  Decora- 
tion of  a  very  low  order ;  and  the  public  taste,  so 
degraded  and  content  with  itself,  thinking  all 
its  geese  to  be  swans,  finds  it  difficult  to  see  the 
virtues  of  the  great  decoration  of  the  past  or  of 
more  artistic  nations.  We  have  Turkey  carpets 
manufactured  to  suit  our  notion  of  manufacture ; 
and  the  vital  ornament  of  the  Middle  Ages  we 
destroy  without  a  scruple,  and  replace  with  cari- 
catures and  clumsy  copies,  under  the  name  of 
restoration. 

But  thanks  to  Mr.  Ruskin's  teaching,  primarily, 
we  are  in  a  way  to  a  better  civilisation  in  this 
respect.  The  fallacies  of  conventionalisation  are 
likely  to  be  forsworn  by  all  who  pretend  to  a  love 
of  Art ;  and  a  truer  view  of  the  nature  of  ornament 
is  gradually  introducing  itself  And  this  is  a  sign, 
not  only  of  better  things  for  Art,  but  also  of  better 
things  for  society  ;  for  the  lower  forms  of  conven- 
tional Decoration,  based  on  nothing  better  than 
order,  symmetry,  and  definition,  are  the  marks  and 
tokens  of  a  low  form  of  culture  and  public  morality. 
In  degraded  races,  or  savage  ones,  they  coexist 
with  dissolute  manners,  cruelty,  and  tyranny ;  while 
the  Decoration  that  is  based  on  natural  form,  and 


250  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

does  its  best  with  that,  in  its  own  material,  is 
always  a  sign  of  health  and  vitality  in  the  nation 
{T,  P.,  Lect  i.) 

116.  Naturalism  in  Ornament. — Abstract  form 
is  not  by  any  means  without  its  place  in  the  best 
ornament ;  but  it  is  there  only  as  subordinate  to 
Naturalism.  In  some  things  it  is  the  necessary 
condition  of  material  or  intention — a  zigzag  is  a 
better  ornament  to  a  teacup  than  a  landscape 
{T.  P.,  §  ^6).  But  the  billet  and  zigzag  of  Norman 
Architecture  are  not  the  whole  of  its  ornament, 
which  rises  in  the  better  examples  (and  more 
completely  preserved  ones  everywhere)  to  sculpture 
of  vegetation  and  figures  {T.  P.,  §  33).  The 
presence  of  conventionalism  is  no  bar  to  great  Art ; 
but  the  absence  of  Naturalism  is.  All  vital  Art 
represents  what  its  public  really  likes,  and  the  best 
uses  the  best  as  its  subject,  that  is,  the  forms  of 
Nature,  and  not  the  spirals  and  zigzags  of  children 
and  savages  {S.  V.,  vol.  i.  chap,  ii.)  All  our  ideas 
of  beauty  are  founded  on  Nature,  on  the  visible 
aspects  of  Nature  {S.  L.  A.,  chap,  iv.),  and  even  in 
the  treatment  of  ornament,  the  artistic  beauty  of 
it,  in  its  broad  and  subtle  undulations  of  surface 
(Z-.  A.y  §  166),  or  varieties  of  colour  and  so  on, 
is  only  the  reflex  of  its  natural  beauty.  The 
highest  Decoration  of  all  ages  is  that  which  is 
composed  of  figures  ;  the  best  in  its  kind  shows 
the  best  figure -sculpture  or  drawing.  To  take 
an  instance  from  a  style  which  Mr.  Ruskin  does 
not  hold  up  to  admiration,  Raphael's  arabesques 
are  better  than  others  of  the  sort  because  he  was 
a  draughtsman  of  the  figure,  and  based  his  patterns 


XIV  Decoration  251 

on  the  figure.  Egyptian  and  Greek  architectural 
decoration,  Gothic  stained-glass  and  ornament,  are 
all  at  their  best  when  the  figure  is  best  rendered 
(T:  P.,  §  82  ;  L.  A.  P.,  App.  to  Lect  i.  and  ii.) 

So  we  have  a  scale  of  ornamental  subjects, 
increasing  in  value  and  dignity — from  the  abstract 
lines,  whose  originals  are  seen  in  Nature,  more 
beautiful  as  they  represent  the  higher  infinite  curves 
expressing  force,  or  spring  of  vegetation,  or  vitality ; 
through  the  simplest  combinations  of  these  lines 
seen  in  Nature  in  crystals,  waves,  and  eddies,  and 
the  like  ;  the  lower  shapes^  of  organic  life,  shells 
and  fish,  snakes  and  other  reptiles ;  the  varied 
suggestions  of  the  vegetable  world,  branches  of 
trees,  foliage,  flower,  and  fruit ;  and  through  birds 
and  beasts,  to  the  human  figure  {S.  V.,  vol.  i. 
chap.  XX.) 

117.  Abstraction. — But  this  advocacy  of  Natur- 
alism must  not  be  construed  into  the  advocacy  of 
vulgar  imitation.  This  question,  in  Decoration,  is 
parallel  with  that  which  has  (chap,  iii.)  been  enough 
discussed  in  general  terms  ;  not  deceptive  imita- 
tion, but  the  representation  and  interpretation  of 
facts,  must  be  the  aim  of  the  decorative  artist,  and 
he  must  further  bear  in  mind  the  limitations  of  his 
material,  and  the  place  and  ofifice  of  his  work. 
This  kind  of  conventionalism  is  entirely  different 
from  that  which  tries  to  cover  a  surface  with 
pattern  on  the  cheapest  terms,  but  it  is  none  the 
less  conventional,  and  leads  to  a  result  which,  by 
the  careless  and  uninformed,  is  sometimes  mistaken 
for  the  other,  especially  in  subordinate  parts. 

Given  the  subject, — a  natural  form  with  all  its 


252  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin      chap,  xiv 

detail,  texture,  and  colour — the  problem  is  to 
transfer  such  of  its  qualities  to  the  work  as  material 
and  purpose  will  permit ;  the  vital  qualities  first, 
that  is,  expression  of  character  and  energy,  the 
beauty  of  its  kind  ;  and  whatever  can  be  super- 
added as  accessory  is  of  small  consequence.  This 
selection  of  the  most  important  facts  is  Abstraction, 
of  which  the  theory  has  been  already  stated  (§§ 
27,  34,  40-43).  But  there  is  something  more,  for 
when  the  facts  are  selected,  how  are  they  to  be 
arranged  ? 

The  vulgar  conventionalisation  places  them  sym- 
metrically and  considers  its  work  complete.  But 
leaves,  for  example,  may  be  regularly  disposed  and 
yet  meanly  imitative ;  they  may  be  apparently 
loosely  arranged,  and  yet  well  designed  (5.  L.  A., 
chap,  iv.)  It  is  easy  to  carve  leaves,  but  not  so 
easy  to  compose  them  ;  and  the  ultimate  problem 
of  all  Decoration  is  that  of  all  Art — composition, 
arrangement,  or  design,  in  which  lies  the  secret  of 
true  conventionalisation. 


CHAPTER    XV 

DESIGN 

1 1 8.  TJie  Necessity  of  Design.  — "  Much  that  I 
have  endeavoured  to  teach,"  says  Mr.  Ruskin 
{L.  A.,  §  1 66),  "has  been  gravely  misunderstood 
by  both  young  painters  and  sculptors,  especially 
by  the  latter.  Because  I  am  always  urging  them 
to  imitate  organic  forms,  they  think  if  they  carve 
quantities  of  flowers  and  leaves,  and  copy  them 
from  the  life,  they  have  done  all  that  is  needed. 
But  the  difficulty  is  not  to  carve  quantities  of 
leaves.  Anybody  can  do  that.  The  difficulty  is, 
never  anywhere  to  have  an  unnecessary  leaf"  And 
then  he  goes  on  to  show  by  examples,  as  he  had 
often  shown  before  {e.g.  in  L.  A.  P.,  §  ^7),  that  in 
a  good  design  no  part  can  be  altered  without 
injury  to  the  rest,  owing  to  the  disposition  of 
masses  ;  and  the  curvature  and  surface-modelling 
is  so  managed  that  the  look  of  life  is  given  without 
the  colour,  or  detail,  or  texture  of  the  real  thing. 
This  is  the  work  of  design,  as  distinct  from  imita- 
tion, or  adaptation  to  use  ;  and  it  is  present  in  all 
great  Art,  whether  decorative  or  pictorial.  "  The 
noblest  Art  is  the  exact  unison  of  the  abstract 


254  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

value,  with  the  imitative  power,  of  forms  and 
colours ;  it  is  the  noblest  composition,  used  to 
express  the  noblest  facts  "  {S.  V.,  vol.  ii.  chap.  vi. 
§  43),  though  this  ideal  of  perfection  is  hardly 
ever  reached. 

But  design  in  any  degree  means  life  to  the 
work ;  it  means  original  power,  creative  talent. 
Even  when  the  subject  of  the  work  is  plagiarised, 
the  artist  makes  it  his  own  by  rearranging  it,  by 
putting  his  own  design  into  it  (S.  L.  A.,  chap,  v.), 
and  the  chief  objection  to  a  weak  copy  of  good 
work  is  that  the  subtleties  which  constitute  design 
are  missed.  Design  is  the  specially  artistic  quality, 
the  part  of  formative  Art  which  answers  to  musical 
composition,  the  quality  which  makes  Fine  Art  a 
finer  thing  than  photography  or  plaster-casting.  It 
is  not  merely  composition,  or  arrangement  of  objects 
in  the  field  of  vision  ;  nor  is  it  merely  draughts- 
manship of  a  more  enthusiastic  and  emphatic  kind, 
but  it  includes  all  these.  It  transcends  rules, 
and  yet  it  is  the  main  requirement  for  the  artist, 
the  decorator,  and  the  architect.  How  is  it  to  be 
obtained  ? 

119.  Organised  Form. — All  noble  design,  in 
any  kind,  depends  on  the  sculpture  or  painting 
of  Organic  Form  {T.  P.,  Preface) ;  not  that  imita- 
tion at  once  teaches  the  secrets  of  composition, 
but  artistic  composition  is  an  analogy  of  natural 
grouping  and  growth,  and  can  only  be  learnt  by 
tracing  out  the  analogy  in  habitual  thought.  The 
principle  that  Nature  is  more  beautiful,  is  greater 
than  Art,  embraces  this  department  of  beauty 
and  greatness  too ;   and  though  Mr.  Ruskin  has 


XV  Design  255 

renounced  the  passages  in  which  he  calls  Nature 
"  Imaginative  "  {M.  P.,  vol,  ii.  pp.  153,  156),  he  has 
always  held  that  "  natural  composition  "  is  more 
perfect  than  artificial,  since  he  drew  his  first  care- 
ful and  accurate  study  of  ivy  on  a  tree -stump  in 
1842. 

The  development  of  the  laws  of  organised  form 
and  grouping  is  traced — none  the  less  thoughtfully 
because  the  language  is  familiar — in  Laws  of 
Fhole,  chapter  v.,  which  opens  by  stating,  what 
has  been  stated  before  in  Mr.  Ruskin's  work  {e.g. 
M.  P.,  vol.  iv.  chap,  xvii.),  that  "  all  beautiful  lines 
are  beautiful  ...  in  showing  the  directions  in  which 
material  things  may  be  wisely  arranged  or  may 
serviceably  move."  Thus  the  curve  which  ter- 
minates a  feather  pleases  us,  "  partly  because  it 
expresses  such  relation  between  the  lengths  of  the 
filaments  of  the  plume  as  may  fit  the  feather  to 
act  best  upon  the  air,  for  flight ;  or,  in  unison  with 
other  such  softly  inlaid  armour,  for  covering." 
The  simplest  arrangement  is  the  globe,  as  a  drop 
of  water ;  the  aggregate  of  several  globes  cluster- 
ing together  can  be  taken  as  the  easiest  example 
of  combinations  of  form,  composition,  or  grouping. 
By  experiment  we  find  that  some  combinations 
please  us  more  than  others ;  and  we  find  the 
reason  why — that  we  naturally  like  things  to  be 
under  law.  The  globes  loosely  arranged  do  not 
satisfy  us  ;  arranged  in  a  square,  giving  only  one 
set  of  relations,  they  please  us  less  than  the  same 
in  a  rhomboidal  cross,  which  gives  two  sets  of 
relations,  two  laws  of  form,  and  so  on.  And  we 
like  the  pattern  best  when  it  is  set  upright,  because 


256  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

our  "  feeling  of  the  pleasantness  in  a  group  of 
separate  (and  not  living)  objects  involves  some 
reference  to  the  great  law  of  gravity."  The  laws 
of  beauty,  therefore,  are  none  other  than  the  laws 
of  life  ;  and  "  design  "  in  Nature,  or  the  adaptation 
of  an  organism  to  its  circumstances,  is  the  analogue 
and  example  of  design  in  Art. 

120.  Natural  Grouping. — So  far  we  have  con- 
sidered only  single  figures  ;  but  by  increasing  the 
number  of  globes  in  the  group,  we  can  form  gar- 
landed shapes,  and  stellar  shapes,  based  on  the 
circle  and  the  cross  respectively ;  and  by  varying 
the  sizes  of  the  globes  an  infinite  variety  of  figures 
and  complex  groups.  "  Supposing  your  natural 
taste  and  feeling  moderately  good,  you  will  always 
feel  some  of  the  forms  you  arrive  at  to  be  pleasanter 
than  others  ;  for  no  explicable  reason,  but  that 
there  is  a  relation  between  their  sizes  and  distances 
which  satisfies  you  as  being  under  some  harmon- 
ious law.  Three  principles  only  you  will  find 
certain  : — 

"  A.  That  perfect  dependence  of  everything  on 
everything  else  is  necessary  for  pleasantness. 

"  B.  That  such  dependence  can  only  become 
perfect  by  means  of  differences  in  magnitude  (or 
other  qualities,  of  course,  when  others  are  intro- 
duced). 

"  C.  That  some  kind  of  balance,  or  '  equity,'  is 
necessary  for  our  satisfaction  in  arrangements  which 
are  clearly  subjected  to  human  interference." 

These  natural  groups,  which  are  neither 
"  directly  prepared  for  the  service  of  man  "  nor 
arranged  by  man's  interference — the  constellations. 


XV 


Design  257 


the  rock-forms  on  either  side  of  a  mountain-valley, 
and  so  on — we  find  to  be  beautiful  without  obvious 
symmetry  and  formal  design  ;  because  the  sense 
of  law  and  order  is  present  in  other  circumstances 
— in  their  movement,  if  they  be  stars,  and  in  their 
harmonious  geological  structure  and  unity  of 
formation,  if  they  be  beds  of  stone.  But  the  more 
nearly  we  approach  human  use  and  admit  human 
interference,  the  more  clearly  we  begin  to  prefer 
the  palpable  evidence  of  design — law  and  order. 
So  that  the  early  Greeks  loved  a  formal  scene 
{M.  P.,  vol.  iii.'  chap,  xiii.),  like  the  mediaeval  land- 
scapists  ;  for  savage  nature  was  a  horror  to  them 
simply  because  they  found  no  law  and  order  in  it  ; 
while  we,  with  our  growing  interest  in  Physical 
Science,  see  it  as  exemplifying  the  universal,  by 
which  alone  it  seems  beautiful  to  us. 

Nature,  then,  is  beautiful,  both  in  simple 
organic  growths  and  in  complex  groupings,  when 
the  laws  of  life  and  cosmic  order  are  traceable  in 
its  phenomena, — not  the  same  laws  always,  but 
according  to  kind.  And  the  more  laws  the  more 
beauty. 

121.  Imaginative  Grouping.  —  In  order  to 
express  this  sense  of  law  and  order,  the  imagina- 
tion arranges  the  materials  of  Art  into  still  more 
emphasised  order,  and  subjects  them  to  still  more 
stringent  law.  If  you  ask  any  one  to  draw — say 
— the  constellation  of  Charles's  Wain,  he  will  place 
the  stars  at  equal  distances,  simplify  the  angles, 
and  formalise  the  whole  ;  merely  by  way  of  insist- 
ing on  the  fact  of  the  almost  uniform  relations  of 
the  stars.     The  Greek  kymation  was  an  abstract 

S 


258  A rt-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

or  memorandum  of  the  law  of  sequence  in  wave- 
breakers  ;  all  early  Art  is  abstract,  as  necessarily 
striving,  before  everything  else,  to  express  the 
sense  of  law  and  order. 

Parallel  with  the  love  of  Nature,  and  part  and 
parcel  with  the  expression  of  it  in  its  sincerity,  is 
this  instinct  for  abstraction.  We  love  Nature  only 
as  seeing  law  in  it  (chap,  vii.),  and  our  expression 
of  the  love  of  law  is  abstract  design, — "  the  visible 
operation  of  human  intellect  in  the  presentation 
of  truth,  the  evidence  of  what  is  properly  called 
design  or  plan  in  the  work,  no  less  than  of  veracity. 
A  looking-glass  does  not  design — it  receives  and 
communicates  indiscriminately  all  that  passes 
before  it ;  a  painter  designs  when  he  chooses  some 
things,  refuses  others,  and  arranges  all "  (7!  /*.,  §§ 
24-50,  which  the  student  should  read  with  care). 

Here  we  reach  the  same  position  that  we  have 
taken  before,  and  approached  from  other  sides, 
in  view  of  the  nature  of  Art — the  reason  why 
Photography  is  not  Art ;  why  mere  derivative 
copying  is  not  Art ;  why  deceptive  imitation  is  not 
Art ;  why  Art  deals  with  Beauty,  and  needs  the 
work  of  the  imagination.  For  Beauty  is  the 
visible  law,  and  the  Imagination  is  that  power  of 
the  human  soul  which  perceives  it :  Design  is  the 
work  of  the  Imagination,  arranging  things  accord- 
ing to  law  perceived ;  and  so  creating  beauty. 
And  we  see  why  the  ornament  composed  of  mere 
abstract  lines  is  lower  in  class  than  that  which 
represents  life  ;  for  the  first  gives  fewer  and  less 
interesting  statements  of  law  ;  the  representation  of 
life,  and  especially  of  human  life,  when  artistically 


XV  Design  259 

done,  gives  the  most  complicated  and  important 
laws. 

122.  Invention. — We  get  also  a  new  and  fuller 
meaning  of  the  word  Re-presentation,  as  meaning 
the  repetition  of  creation,  according  to  the  laws 
learnt  from  Nature.  Just  as  in  any  natural  being, 
or  group  of  phenomena  associated  in  origin  or 
function,  no  part  can  be  taken  away  without  loss 
and  ruin,  so  in  artistic  design  "  selection  and 
arrangement  must  have  influence  over  everything 
that  the  Art  is  concerned  with,  great  or  small — 
over  lines,  over  colours,  and  over  ideas.  Given  a 
certain  group  of  colours,  by  adding  another  colour 
at  the  side  of  them,  you  will  either  improve  the 
group  and  render  it  more  delightful,  or  injure  it  and 
render  it  discordant  and  unintelligible.  '  Design  ' 
is  the  choosing  and  placing  the  colour  so  as  to 
help  and  enhance  all  the  other  colours  it  is  set 
beside.  So  of  thoughts  :  in  a  good  composition 
every  idea  is  presented  in  just  that  order,  and  with 
just  that  force,  which  will  perfectly  connect  it 
with  all  the  other  thoughts  in  the  work,  and  will 
illustrate  the  others  as  well  as  receive  illustration 
from  them  ;  so  that  the  entire  chain  of  thoughts 
offered  to  the  beholder's  mind  shall  be  received  by 
him  with  as  much  delight  and  with  as  little  effort 
as  possible.  And  thus  you  see  design,  properly 
so  called,  is  human  invention,  consulting  human 
capacity"(r.  P.,  §43). 

This  power  of  design  is  called  {M.  P.,  vol.  v. 
part  iii.)  Invention^  because  it  creates  something 
which  has  a  life  of  its  own,  and  a  vital  power  and 
influence.      In   Music  a   single   note   is    merely  a 


26o  Art- Teaching  of  Rus kin  chap. 

noise ;  a  tune  is  something  which  stirs  the 
emotions,  until  men  will  live  or  die  for  it.  In 
Painting  and  Sculpture  the  same  element — musical 
composition,  arrangement,  or  design-^ — is  that  which 
gives  vitality  to  Art.  So  that  it  matters  not  at 
all  whence  the  materials  are  derived  or  how  pre- 
sented, so  long  as  they  have  this  vital  power. 
The  best  and  noblest  objects  merely  imitated, 
the  finest  story  inartistically  illustrated,  the  purest 
and  brightest  colour  inharmoniously  arranged,  are 
not  Art  at  all  ;  neither  picturesque  material  nor 
literary  subject  nor  any  other  element  that  goes 
to  the  making  of  a  work  of  Art  is  of  any  value 
unless  the  imagination  amend  it  by  power  of 
design,  which  is  the  invention,  the  creation  of  a 
living  work — the  making  of  external  objects  into 
subjects  of  Art. 

123.  Three  Stages  of  Design. — The  expression 
of  the  sense  of  law  and  order  may  be  traced  in 
three  stages,  which  are  more  or  less  parallel  to 
the  history  of  Art.  The  first  is  that  at  which  we 
can  arrive  soonest  in  arranging  globes  into  simple 
figures  ;  getting  patterns — the  Greek  cross,  the 
Latin  cross,  and  various  alternations  of  great 
and  small  ;  the  circle  and  spiral  ;  the  zigzag  and 
maeander,  knop  and  flower,  and  so  on.  This,  it 
may  be  remarked,  was  the  actual  beginning  of  Art 
among  primitive  nations,  and  still  is  seen  in  the 
first  attempts  of  ingenious  children  to  evolve  Art 
for  themselves  when  they  are  not  set  to  copy.  In 
this  stage  the  laws  expressed  are  very  simple  and 
obvious — symmetry  and  contrast,  sequence  and 
dependence.     To  begin  thus  is  right ;  to  persevere 


XV  Design  261 

in  this  rudimentary  conventionalism  implies  a  want 
of  perception — savagery,  or  the  indolence  of  worn- 
out  intellect  as  seen  in  the  decay  of  races,  as  we 
have  already  noticed. 

The  next  stage  is  the  attempt  at  naturalistic 
draughtsmanship,  illustrating  the  laws  of  growth, 
— radiation  and  infinite  curvature  ;  the  laws  of 
life — gravity,  and  energy  of  springing  lines  ;  and 
all  the  other  natural  laws  which  condition  action 
and  passion,  circumstance,  colour,  and  so  on. 
This  in  history  is  abstract  Art  to  begin  with, 
when  the  development  is  proceeding  normally  and 
healthily  ;  it  becomes  in  time  complete  Naturalism, 
and,  misdirected,  begets  deceptive  imitation. 

The  third  stage  is  complete  design,  pictorial 
composition,  and  decorative  invention  ;  combining 
the  first  two  stages,  binding  them  together  into 
unity.  But  when  this  has  been  practised  for  a 
while,  the  natural  indolence  of  artists  tempts  them 
to  find  a  short-cut  to  the  production  of  its  effects 
— an  easier  way  than  the  exercise  of  Imagination. 
And  so  they  try  to  formulate  Rules  for  composi- 
tion, forgetting  that  the  essence  of  Imagination  is 
that  it  is  not  Reason.  To  apply  Rules  is  the 
work  of  deductive  reasoning ;  to  invent  is  the 
work  of  Imagination  set  free  from  deductive 
reasoning.  Therefore  all  Rules  for  composition 
are  snares  and  pitfalls  for  the  artist ;  and  they 
are  the  main  cause  of  the  production  of  Sham 
Art. 

124.  Rules  of  Composition. — The  laws  of  the 
first  and  rudimentary  stage  of  design  are  popularly 
supposed  to  be  applicable  as  Rules  for  all  design, 


262  Art- Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

of  which  an  amusing  illustration  is  given  in  TJie 
Two  PatJis  (§§  84-86).  Contrast,  series,  and  sym- 
metry are  applied  to  very  unpromising  materials 
— a  blot  and  a  set  of  numerals  and  a  grotesque 
figure — and  result  in  the  design  of  a  "  choice 
sporting  neckerchief."  On  which  the  author 
remarks  that  these  Rules  are  not  by  any  means 
all  that  have  gone  to  the  making  of  the  design. 
How  was  the  number  of  figures  determined  ? 
How  was  the  breadth  of  the  border  and  relative 
size  of  the  numerals  fixed  ?  How  was  the 
number  of  bounding  lines  decided  ?  Why  were 
any  inserted  ?  What  conditioned  the  placing  of 
anything?  All  these  questions  can  be  answered 
only  by  a  reference  to  the  mysterious  power 
of  imagination,  working  unconsciously,  and  left 
totally  unexplained  by  any  formulae.  And  when 
all  was  done,  these  Rules,  working  their  best  with 
such  material,  produced  but  an  ugly  result.  For 
"  the  nobler  the  materials,  the  less  their  symmetry 
is  endurable  ; "  "  whenever  the  materials  of  orna- 
ment are  noble  they  must  be  various,  and  repeti- 
tion of  parts  is  either  the  sign  of  utterly  bad, 
hopeless,  and  base  work,  or  of  the  intended 
degradation  of  the  parts  in  which  such  repetition 
is  allowed,  in  order  to  foil  others  more  noble." 

"  If  designing  could  be  taught,  all  the  world 
would  learn,  as  all  the  world  reads  or  calculates. 
But  designing  is  not  to  be  spelled  nor  summed." 
And  if  the  decorative  arrangement  in  one  of  the 
minor  crafts  is  unteachable,  then  how  much  more 
so  is  the  composition  of  a  picture  or  the  design 
of   a    statue?       Some    of    the    principles    which 


XV  Design  263 

are  illustrated  in  existing  works  of  Art  can  be 
analysed,  but  not  as  being  examples  for  repro- 
duction. That  this  is  the  case  is  seen  from  the 
popular  contrasts  between  the  words  artistic  and 
artificial,  genius  and  ingenuity,  art  and  artifice, 
artist  and  artisan.  And  there  could  be  no 
greater  error  than  that  into  which  some  of  Mr. 
Ruskin's  disciples  have  occasionally  fallen  of  using 
the  Laws  of  Design,  as  analysed  by  him  in  The 
Elenients  of  Drawing,  for  Rules  by  which  they 
were  to  concoct  pictures  which  should  satisfy 
their  misunderstood  master. 

125.  Laws  of  Composition. — From  these  laws, 
however,  many  hints  may  be  gained,  especially 
useful  in  observing  Nature  and  studying  works  of 
Art ;  and  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  the  book  which 
contains  them  is  out  of  print,  and  inaccessible  to 
the  ordinary  reader.  The  late  Mrs.  Ewing  said 
(I  forget  in  what  publication)  that  it  taught  her 
much  in  the  way  of  literary  composition — the  art 
of  putting  together  a  story,  in  which  she  was 
more  than  most  of  our  time  proficient ;  and  it  is 
curious,  as  a  mere  by-thought,  to  note  that  the 
title  and  motto  of  her  most  popular  work  occurs 
in  the  preface(E.D.) — "tositlike  a  jackanapes,  never 
off."  There  are  nine  laws  given  in  The  Elements 
of  Drawing,  and  discussed  at  length  with  illus- 
trations and  examples. 

( I )  Principality. — There  must  be  a  chief  object 
in  a  picture,  to  which  the  others  point  or  lead, 
as  shown  in  Turner's  Coblentz.  This  law,  how- 
ever, is  not  to  be  too  strongly  insisted  upon,  to 
the  exclusion  of  others ;   for  in  much  good  Art 


264  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

the  dominance  of  the  principal  object  is  so  veiled 
— artis  celare  artein — that  it  is  hardly  perceptible. 

(2)  Repetition. — The  doubling  of  objects  gives 
quietude  ;  symmetry  gives  solemnity.  But  it  must 
be  balanced,  not  formal,  symmetry  in  landscape. 
The  exaggeration  of  this  principle  leads  to  that 
school  of  painting  which  is  caricatured  and  criti- 
cised in  The  Art  of  England  (p.  220) — the 
"  French  emotional  landscape,"  with  its  stagnant 
reflections  and  amorphous  stolidity. 

(3)  Continuity — as  in  succession  of  pillars  or 
promontories  or  clouds,  involving  change  and  relief, 
or  else  it  would  be  mere  monotonous  repetition. 

(4)  Curvature. — All  beautiful  objects  are 
bounded  by  infinite  curves  ;  that  is  to  say,  lines 
of  infinitely  changing  direction  {M.  P.,  vol.  iv. 
pp.  270-291);  or  else  made  up  of  an  infinite 
number  of  subordinate  curves. 

(5)  Radiation — illustrated  in  leaves  and  boughs, 
and  in  all  the  structure  of  organic  bodies.  In 
pictorial  composition  the  analogue  of  Nature  is 
found  in  the  radiating  lines  which  point  to  the 
principal  objects,  as  already  shown  in  Turner's 
Coblentz. 

(6)  Contrast — of  shapes,  of  substance,  of  general 
lines — being  the  complement  of  the  law  of  Con- 
tinuity, and  valuable  only  in  that  connection. 
The  strong  contrast  of  chiaroscuro,  which  is  the 
only  law  exemplified  in  some  modern  pictures 
which  "  tell  in  exhibitions,"  is  not  enough,  alone, 
to  create  great  Art. 

(7)  Interchange  —  as  in  heraldic  quartering. 
This  was  Prout's  especial  notion  when  he  came  to 


XV  Design  265 

lay  down,  as  he  thought,  the  laws  by  which  he 
worked.  A  valuable  principle  ;  but,  like  the  rest, 
only  one  of  many. 

(8)  Consistency,  or  Breadth  ;  overriding  petty 
contrast,  and  giving  effect  of  aggregate  colour 
or  form,  relieved  by  few  contrasts,  and  those 
not  necessarily  violent.  In  Architecture,  power  is 
shown  by  breadth  of  mass  in  the  great  works  of 
the  Romanesque  and  Gothic  ages  {S.  L.  A.,  chap, 
iii.)  In  Sculpture,  it  is  the  especial  virtue  of 
marble  to  offer  facilities  for  broad  undulations 
of  surface,  contrasted  with  crisp  edge.  And  in 
Painting,  every  artist  knows  the  value  of  breadth, 
though  so  few  attain  it.  It  is  especially  character- 
istic of  the  greater  masters,  as  indicating  grasp  of 
the  subject,  when  joined  with  delicacy  (Turner's 
earliest  water-colours  may  be  identified,  almost 
with  certainty,  by  their  broadly  gradated  skies). 

(9)  Harmony. — Art  is  an  abstract  of  Nature, 
at  its  best ;  and  it  must  therefore  be  harmoniously 
abstracted.  The  tone  of  Nature's  light  and  dark 
cannot  be  rendered  ;  therefore  all  the  tones  in  a 
picture  must  be  treated  so  as  to  get  a  gradual 
series  from  high  light  to  deep  shadow.  In  Land- 
scape by  daylight  it  is  necessary  to  deepen  rather 
than  to  brighten  the  tones,  in  order  to  preserve 
their  relative  general  effect ;  and  it  is  best  to 
deepen  the  tints  gradually  as  they  become  lighter, 
consistently  subduing  the  brighter  more  and  more, 
and  retaining  as  much  of  the  difference  between 
the  lower  tones  as  may  be  ;  or  else  the  violent 
masses  of  dark  occur  over  large  parts  of  the 
picture,  which  are  criticised  in  Modern  Painters  as 


266  A rt-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

the  defect  of  Caspar  Poussin  and  the  older  land- 
scapists.  But  this  treatment  of  tones  is  at  the 
discretion  of  the  artist.  Mr.  Ruskin  prefers  that 
which  Turner  adopted  ;  but  the  best  in  this  kind 
are  but  shadows.  To  gain  in  colour  what  is  lost 
in  tone  is  the  secret  of  Venetian  Art,  which 
deepens  its  shadow  not  with  gray  or  brown,  but 
with  local  colour.  Besides  harmony  of  colour, 
there  is  harmony  of  manipulation  and  treatment ; 
"  depending  on  the  draughtsman's  carrying  every- 
thing he  draws  up  to  just  the  balancing  and 
harmonious  point,  in  finish  and  colour  and  depth 
of  tone,  and  intensity  of  moral  feeling,  and  style  of 
touch,  all  considered  at  once  ;  and  never  allowing 
himself  to  lean  too  emphatically  on  detached  parts, 
or  exalt  one  thing  at  the  expense  of  another,  or 
feel  acutely  in  one  place  and  coldly  in  another " 
{E.  D.,  p.  320). 

"  I  have  now  stated,"  the  author  continues,  "  all 
the  laws  of  composition  which  occur  to  me  as 
capable  of  being  illustrated  or  defined  ;  but  there 
are  multitudes  of  others  which,  in  the  present  state 
of  my  knowledge,  I  cannot  define,  and  others 
which  I  never  hope  to  define  ;  and  these  the  most 
important,  and  connected  with  the  deepest  powers 
of  the  art.  .  .  .  The  best  part  of  every  great  work 
is  always  inexplicable ;  it  is  good  because  it  is 
good.  .  .  .  But  though  you  cannot  explain  them, 
you  may  always  render  yourself  more  and  more 
sensitive  to  these  higher  qualities  by  the  discipline 
which  you  generally  give  to  your  character.  .  .  . 
Simplicity  of  life  will  make  you  sensitive  to  the 
refinement  and  modesty  of  scenery,  just  as  inordinate 


XV  Design  267 

excitement  and  pomp  of  daily  life  will  make  you 
enjoy  coarse  colours  and  affected  forms.  Habits 
of  patient  comparison  and  accurate  judgment  will 
make  your  art  precious,  as  they  will  make  your 
actions  wise  ;  and  every  increase  of  noble  enthu- 
siasm in  your  living  spirit  will  be  measured  by 
the  reflection  of  its  light  upon  the  works  of  your 
hands." 


CHAPTER    XVI 

SCULPTURE 

126.  Plastic  and  Glyptic. — Hitherto  we  have  re- 
garded Sculpture  as  an  architectural  decoration, 
as  indeed  it  is  ;  for  its  greatest  works,  the  Elgin 
Marbles  and  the  statues  of  the  Medici  Chapel,  are 
strictly  decorative,  though  not  subordinate  to  the 
Architecture  they  adorn.  And  even  in  monumental 
Sculpture  the  statue  cannot  be  designed  without 
its  pedestal  and  surroundings  ;  it  is  fixed  Art,  and 
therefore  decorative.  But  its  qualities  and  condi- 
tions we  can  consider  separately  ;  starting  from 
and  expounding  the  definition  of  it  as  "  the  Art 
which,  by  the  musical  disposition  of  masses,  imi- 
tates everything  of  which  the  imitation  is  justly 
pleasant  to  us,  and  does  so  in  accordance  with 
structural  laws,  having  due  reference  -  to  the 
materials  employed"  {A.  P.,  §  26). 

The  Imagination  in  Sculpture  has  no  aid  from 
chiaroscuro  or  colour,  and  yet  it  is  capable  of 
expressing  the  highest  range  of  thought,  as  Michel- 
angelo said  {M.  /*.,  vol.  ii.  p.  178).  It  ranks, 
with  Painting,  as  the  highest  of  the  Fine  Arts,  in 
virtue  of  its  expressional  power,  and  of  its  demands 


CHAP.  XVI  Sculpture  269 

upon  the  whole  nature  and  highest  faculties  of  the 
artist — physical,  emotional,  and  intellectual. 

There  are  two  main  divisions  of  Sculpture, 
considered  in  relation  to  the  material  employed. 
Plastic  Art  is  properly  that  which  models  a  soft 
mass,  such  as  clay  or  wax  or  molten  or  ductile 
metal  and  glass.  Glyptic  is  the  correct  word  for 
the  carving  of  stone  (and  chasing  of  rigid  metal). 
"  Sculpture  in  clay  will  accordingly  include  all 
cast  brickwork,  pottery,  and  tilework — a  somewhat 
important  branch  of  human  skill.  Next  to  the 
potter's  work  you  have  all  the  arts  in  porcelain, 
glass"  (exclusive  of  stained-glass  windows),  "enamel, 
and  metal — everything,  that  is  to  say,  playful  and 
familiar  in  design,  much  of  what  is  most  felicitously 
inventive,  and,  in  bronze  or  gold,  most  precious 
and  permanent.  Sculpture  in  stone,  whether 
granite,  gem,  or  marble,  while  we  accurately  use 
the  general  term  '  glyptic '  for  it,  may  be  thought 
of  with,  perhaps,  the  most  clear  force  under  the 
English  word  '  engraving ' ;  for  from  the  mere 
angular  incision  which  the  Greek  consecrated  in 
the  triglyphs  of  his  greatest  order  of  Architecture, 
grow  forth  all  the  arts  of  bas-relief,  and  methods 
of  localised  groups  of  sculpture  connected  with 
each  other  and  with  Architecture  ;  as,  in  another 
direction,  the  arts  of  engraving  and  woodcutting 
themselves"  {A.  P.,%%  153,  154). 

From  the  foregoing  general  principles  of  Art  it 
is  to  be  assumed  that  we  accept  these  four  general 
laws  of  Sculpture  {A.  P.,%  155)  : — 

"  (i)  That  the  work  is  to  be  with  tools  of  men. 

"  (2)  That  it  is  to  be  in  natural  materials. 


2  70  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

"  (3)  That  it  is  to  exhibit  the  virtues  of  those 
materials,  and  aim  at  no  quality  inconsistent  with 
them. 

"  (4)  That  its  temper  is  to  be  quiet  and  gentle, 
in  harmony  with  common  needs,  and  in  consent 
to  common  intelligence," 

The  virtues  of  clay  and  metal,  as  materials  for 
Sculpture,  have  been  noticed,  and  those  of  various 
kinds  of  stone  hinted  (§  1 1 2),  and  the  conclusion 
that  important  carving  in  Architecture  is  to  be 
done  in  white  marble  (§  109)  has  cleared  the  way 
for  a  special  consideration  of  the  various  forms  in 
which  white  marble  may  be  wrought,  in  accordance 
with  our  definition  and  general  laws  of  Sculpture. 
That  such  a  stone  exists,  and  has  been  found 
accessible  and  plentiful  in  those  countries  where 
the  genius  to  work  it  was  most  distinctly  developed, 
is  one  of  the  fortunate  coincidences  or  providences 
of  history  ;  if  the  only  available  stone  had  been 
speckled,  "  the  Venus  de'  Medici  would  have  looked 
like  some  exquisitely  graceful  species  of  frog" 
[M.  P.,  vol.  iv.  p.  113).  The  fact  that  the  Greeks 
had  the  stone  did  not  make  them  sculptors,  but  it 
enabled  them  to  become  sculptors  ;  because  it  is 
the  most  perfect  material  for  the  most  perfect  work 
in  this  kind,  with  the  right  luminosity,  suggestive  of 
ideal  flesh — not  opaque  like  chalk,  but  not  wholly 
transparent,  lending  itself  to  broad  undulating  sur- 
face and  crisp  edge,  and  improving  rather  than  dete- 
riorating with  age.  It  is  not  only  a  fine  material  for 
Sculpture  but  also  for  building ;  and  the  hewn  blocks 
of  the  wall  or  voussoirs  of  the  arch  can,  if  truly 
laid,  be  carved  upon  just  as  canvas  is  painted  upon. 


XVI 


Sculpture  271 


127.  Incision. — Sculpture  intended  for  distant 
ornament — which  in  bad  styles  is  finished  as  if  it 
were  meant  to  be  seen  near,  and  is  consequently 
invisible — was  done  by  the  early  Gothic  architects, 
and  by  the  Romans  before  them,  in  a  kind  of  sketch- 
ing or  etching,  which  used  the  chisel  as  a  pen  and 
the  white  marble  surface  as  paper  {S.  V.,  vol.  i. 
chap.  xxi.  §  23).  This  is  the  simplest  kind  of 
Sculpture,  and  perfectly  right  when  rightly  used 
— that  is,  for  distant  effect ;  simple  incision  of  lines, 
a  magnified  engraving,  glyptic  in  the  first  degree. 

By  clearing  away  the  space  around  the  figure 
a  low  relief  is  obtained,  after  the  manner  of  the 
Egyptians.  The  figure  stands  up,  not  with  any 
play  of  surface,  but  simply  as  a  table-land  above 
a  plain.  And  as  there  is  no  surface  to  be  con- 
fused by  colour,  colour  may  be  legitimately  applied 
to  this  rudimentary  bas-relief  (A.  P.,  §§  159-163). 
This  stage  of  Sculpture  resembles  wood-engraving  ; 
and  the  mere  fact  of  its  resemblance  to  any  other 
Art  shows  that  the  virtues  of  the  material  are  not 
yet  brought  out  in  their  specific  excellence  ;  for 
the  rule  of  Art  is,  "  I  can,  therefore  I  ought." 

But  the  Incision  is  one  of  the  possibilities  of 
Sculpture  ;  and  before  going  further  it  must  be 
fixed  on  the  mind  that,  just  as  Incision  without 
surface  is  not  all  that  marble  can  give,  so  surface 
without  Incision  is  not  all  that  it  can  give.  Be- 
cause surface  is  so  noble  a  thing  it  is  dwelt  upon 
too  often,  to  the  exclusion  of  edge,  and  consequent 
loss  of  contrast  and  vitality.  And  this  is  especi- 
ally the  case  when  a  clay  model  is  made  and  the 
marble  reproduced  mechanically  from  it.     Plastic 


272  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

Sculpture  is  one  thing  ;  glyptic  is  another  :  plastic 
leans  on  the  surface  alone  ;  glyptic  on  both  sur- 
face and  incision.  And  the  full  virtues  of  the 
marble  are  only  learnt  by  actual  experience  of  it, 
and  only  developed  by  the  artist's  hand  working 
directly  upon  it. 

The  "table -land"  relief,  for  the  third  stage, 
may  have  its  edges  rounded  away,  with  more  or 
less  steepness,  and  this  being  done  we  get  the 
conditions  of  true  bas-relief 

128.  Surface. —  The  moment  that  the  edges 
are  rounded  away  the  surface  of  the  figure  becomes 
important,  and  Sculpture  begins  to  take  its  proper 
place  as  a  distinct  Art.  For  though  the  model- 
ling may  be  represented  in  Painting  or  Engraving, 
it  is  made — created — in  Sculpture  ;  whose  con- 
ception is  therefore  the  production  of  surface,  and 
the  beauty  so  obtained,  irrespective  of  imitation 
{A.  P.,  §  20).  The  special  skill  and  knowledge 
of  the  sculptor  is  that  of  the  relation  between  out- 
line and  the  solid  form  it  limits,  always  in  three 
dimensions  {A.  P.,  §15).  The  design  required  in 
Sculpture  is  that  of  disposition  of  masses^  that  is, 
beautiful  surfaces — not  flat  but  modelled  spaces 
— bounded  by  beautiful  lines.  And  when  this  is 
well  done  it  is  known  at  any  distance,  even  when 
the  imitative  meaning  of  it  is  unperceived,  for 
good  surface  {A.  P.,  §  22)  a  pleasant  bossiness 
or  roundness.  In  Nature  this  is  seen  in  the 
delicately  varied  modelling  of  hills  at  a  distance 
seen  in  lateral  sunshine  ;  in  the  undulations  of 
leaves,  the  rounding  of  fruits  ;  and  especially  in 
the  smooth  rise  and  fall  of  the  human  limbs,  in 


XVI  Sculpture  273 

which  there  is  never  a  square  inch  of  absolute 
flatness.  The  beginner  in  Art,  without  special 
artistic  faculties,  is  apt  to  neglect  this,  and  to  lean 
upon  outline  or  violent  projection,  or  the  pictur- 
esque light  and  dark  of  flat  objects  relieved  against 
one  another.  The  amateur  woodcarver,  for  in- 
stance, can  stab  out  his  pattern  and  gouge  out 
his  strap  ornament  long  before  he  rises  to  a  sense 
of  the  beauty  of  modulation,  the  "  magnificent 
come-and-go  "  of  surface.  But  this  is  the  peculiar 
virtue  of  Sculpture  in  any  material. 

To  get  surface  with  the  maximum  of  meaning 
and  at  the  same  time  the  minimum  of  depth  is 
the  problem  of  bas-relief  proper ;  and  it  was 
achieved  most  completely  by  the  delicate  art  of 
the  Florentines,  who  could  "  carve  Madonna  and 
Child,  rolling  clouds,  flying  angels,  and  space  of 
heavenly  air  behind  all,  out  of  a  film  of  stone  not 
the  third  of  an  inch  thick  at  the  thickest." 

129.  Bas- Relief. — "The  true  law  of  bas-relief 
is  to  begin  with  a  depth  of  incision  proportioned 
justly  to  the  distance  of  the  observer  and  the 
character  of  the  subject,  and  out  of  that  rationally 
determined  depth,  neither  increased  for  ostentation 
of  effect  nor  diminished  for  ostentation  of  skill,  to 
do  the  utmost  that  will  be  easily  visible  to  an 
observer,  supposing  him  to  give  an  average  human 
amount  of  attention,  but  not  to  peer  into,  or 
critically  scrutinise,  the  work.  .  .  .  Suppose  that 
depth  fixed  ;  then  observe  what  a  pretty  problem, 
or,  rather,  continually  varying  cluster  of  problems, 
will  be  offered  to  us.  You  might  at  first  imagine 
that,  given  what  we  may  call  our  scale  of  solidity, 

T 


2  74  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

or  scale  of  depth,  the  diminution  from  Nature 
would  be  in  regular  proportion  ;  as,  for  instance, 
if  the  real  depth  of  your  subject  be,  suppose,  a 
foot,  and  the  depth  of  your  bas-relief  an  inch, 
then  the  parts  of  the  real  subject,  which  were  six 
inches  round  the  side  of  it,  would  be  carved,  you 
might  imagine,  at  the  depth  of  half  an  inch,  and 
so  the  whole  thing  mechanically  reduced  to  scale. 
But  not  a  bit  of  it."  And  taking  a  Greek  coin 
representing  a  quadriga  the  author  shows  that  the 
great  designer  "  made  the  near  leg  of  the  off  horse 
project  much  beyond  the  off  leg  of  the  near  horse  ; 
and  has  put  nearly  the  whole  depth  and  power  of 
his  relief  into  the  breast  of  the  off  horse,  while  for 
the  whole  distance  from  the  head  of  the  nearest  to 
the  neck  of  the  other  he  has  allowed  himself  only 
a  shallow  line,  knowing  that,  if  he  deepened  that, 
he  would  give  the  nearest  horse  the  look  of  having 
a  thick  nose,  whereas,  by  keeping  that  line  down, 
he  has  not  only  made  the  head  itself  more  delicate, 
but  detached  it  from  the  other  by  giving  no  cast 
shadow,  and  left  the  shadow  below  to  serve  for 
thickness  of  breast,  cutting  it  as  sharp  down  as  he 
possibly  can,  to  make  it  bolder  "  {A.  /*.,  §§  1 69, 1 70). 

"  The  questions  involved  by  bas-relief  are  of 
a  more  curious  and  amusing  kind  (than  in  solid 
statuary),  requiring  great  variety  of  expedients, 
though  none  except  such  as  a  true  workmanly 
instinct  delights  in  inventing  and  invents  easily." 
So  far  of  bas-relief,  pure  and  simple,  such  as  can 
be  shown  in  coins. 

130.  Undercutting. — But  in  Marble  Sculpture 
the  facilities  for  incision  suggest  an  expedient  for 


XVI  Sculpture  275 

getting  relief  other  than  that  of  a  simply  termin- 
ated surface.  It  is  possible  to  hollow  the  edge 
beneath,  and  so  increase  the  sharpness  of  the 
shadow  to  any  degree  up  to  blackness,  Mr. 
Ruskin's  paragraph  on  undercutting  is  so  much 
more  lucid  and  terse  than  anything  I  could  write, 
that  the  reader  will  be  glad  to  have  it  in  his  own 
words,  which  perhaps  may  encourage  him  to  refer 
with  added  interest  to  the  fine  course  of  lectures 
from  which  they  are  taken  {A.  P.,  §  174). 

"  Since  the  darkness  and  extent  of  shadow  by 
which  the  Sculpture  is  relieved  necessarily  vary 
with  the  depth  of  the  recess,  there  arise  a  series  of 
problems,  in  deciding  which  the  wholesome  desire 
for  emphasis  by  means  of  shadow  is  too  often 
exaggerated  by  the  ambition  of  the  sculptor  to 
show  his  skill  in  undercutting.  The  extreme  of 
vulgarity  is  usually  reached  when  the  entire  bas- 
relief  is  cut  hollow  underneath,  as  in  much  Indian 
and  Chinese  work,  so  as  to  relieve  its  forms  against 
an  absolute  darkness  ;  but  no  formal  law  can  be 
given  ;  for  exactly  the  same  thing  may  be  beauti- 
fully done  for  a  wise  purpose  by  one  person,  which 
is  basely  done,  and  to  no  purpose,  or  to  a  bad  one, 
by  another.  Thus  the  desire  for  emphasis  itself 
may  be  the  craving  of  a  deadened  imagination,  or 
the  passion  of  a  vigorous  one  ;  and  relief  against 
shadow  may  be  sought  by  one  man  only  for 
sensation,  and  by  another  for  intelligibility.  John 
of  Pisa  undercuts  fiercely,  in  order  to  bring  out 
the  vigour  of  life  which  no  level  contour  could 
render.  The  Lombardi  of  Venice  undercut  deli- 
cately, in  order  to  obtain  beautiful  lines,  and  edges 


276  Art- Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

of  faultless  precision  ;  but  the  base  Indian  crafts- 
men undercut  only  that  people  may  wonder  how 
the  chiselling  was  done  through  the  holes,  or  that 
they  may  see  every  monster  white  against  black. 

"  Yet  here  again  we  are  met  by  another  neces- 
sity for  discrimination.  There  may  be  a  true 
delight  in  the  inlaying  of  white  on  dark,  as  there 
is  a  true  delight  in  vigorous  rounding.  Neverthe- 
less the  general  law  is  always  that  the  lighter  the 
incisions  and  the  broader  the  surface  the  grander, 
cceteris  paribus,  will  be  the  work." 

131.  Kinds  of  Relief. — The  conception  of 
Architectural  Relief-Sculpture  involves  two  things 
— the  protection  of  the  ornament  from  weather 
and  transverse  blows,  and  the  preservation  of  the 
constructive  strength  of  the  piece  of  wall  so  orna- 
mented. To  get  the  first  result  every  relief, 
whether  flat  or  round,  must  be  within  its  panel- 
frame,  and  not  rising  above  the  level  of  the 
exterior  moulding.  To  get  the  second  result, 
wherever  the  wall  space  so  ornamented  must  bear 
great  weight  or  otherwise  offer  strong  resistance, 
the  relief  must  be  low  to  avoid  weakening  the 
stone  by  cutting  too  much  away  ;  but  in  places 
where  so  much  strength  is  not  needed  (as  in  the 
pediment)  the  relief  may  be  deeper.  (This  is 
often  a  merely  apparent  relation  to  the  actual 
construction,  but  the  effect  on  the  eye  and  the 
mind  is  the  subject  of  artistic  law.  And  it  may 
be  added  that  this  law  explains  the  discomfort  we 
feel  when  figures  in  the  round  are  attached  to  a 
wall,  projecting  from  it,  and  not  under  cover  of  a 
niche,  or  panel-frame,  or  cornice.) 


XVI  Sculpture  277 

There  are  therefore  four  kinds  of  relief,  dis- 
tinguished not  merely  by  the  differences  of  their 
depth,  but  by  management  of  incision  and  surface. 

(i)  Flat  Relief — where  portions  of  the  surface 
are  absolutely  flat,  and  the  expression  depends 
greatly  on  the  lines  of  its  outer  contour  and  fine 
incisions  within  them. 

(2)  Round  Relief — if  every  portion  of  the 
surface  be  rounded,  but  none  undercut,  as  in  Greek 
coins  and  seals. 

(3)  Edged  or  Foliate  Relief — if  any  part  of 
the  edges  be  undercut,  but  the  general  projection 
of  solid  form  reduced — the  parts  of  the  design 
overlapping  each  other  in  places  like  the  edges  of 
leaves. 

(4)  Full  Relief — if  the  statue  be  completely 
solid  in  form  and  unreduced  in  retreating  depth 
of  it,  yet  connected  locally  with  some  definite  part 
of  the  building  so  as  to  be  still  dependent  on  the 
shadow  of  its  background  and  direction  of  protect- 
ive line  {_A.  P.,  §§  175,  176). 

This  full  relief — alto-relievo — is  the  manner 
of  the  pedimental  sculptures  of  the  Parthenon, 
which  indeed  are  separable  from  their  architectur^il 
setting,  and  capable  of  being  viewed  as  free  statu- 
ary ;  but  intended  originally  as  ornament,  and 
to  be  seen  from  one  side  only  in  their  designed 
position. 

132.  Statuary. — Of  the  free  statue  there  are 
two  varieties — the  Classic  and  the  Gothic  :  the 
first  derived  from  the  portrait  of  the  Divinity  in 
its  shrine,  orginally  part  of  an  architectural  design  ; 
though  not   a   bas-relief,  akin   to   one  ;   and   the 


2jS  Ari-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

other  from  the  recumbent  ^^^y  on  the  "  hog- 
backed  "  tomb  of  our  Teutonic  ancestors,  connected 
in  origin  with  monumental  brasses  and  low  reliefs, 
and  gradually  becoming  the  image  of  one  lying 
dead.  Of  this  kind,  in  its  highest  development,  the 
finest  example  is  the  Ilaria  di  Caretto  of  Quercia, 
in  Lucca  Cathedral,  already  mentioned  as  the  first 
great  work  of  Gothic  sculpture  which  Mr.  Ruskin 
studied.  He  has  described  it  with  admiration 
more  than  once  {M,  P.,  vol.  ii,  p.  68,  and  1883 
Epilogue,  and  again  in  The  Three  Colours  of 
Pre-RapJiaelitism,  Old  Road,  §  249).  There  is  a 
plaster  cast  of  it  in  the  South  Kensington  Museum, 
but  any  one  who  has  seen  the  original,  defaced 
though  it  be  with  discoloured  but  still  translucent 
and  living  marble,  in  its  quiet  corner  in  the 
church,  cannot  fail  to  feel  the  inadequacy  of  the 
best  mechanical  appliances  to  reproduce  Great 
Art. 

Of  the  free  statue,  properly  so  called,  Mr. 
Ruskin  rates  Verrochio's  equestrian  portrait  of 
Bartolommeo  CoUeone  as  the  highest  example 
(5.  v.,  vol.  iii.  chap.  i.  §  22).  In  former  times, 
when  he  gave  in  to  the  general  admiration  of 
Michelangelo,  he  wrote  fine  passages  on  the 
Bacchus,  the  Pietas  of  Genoa  and  Florence,  and 
the  Medici  Chapel  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  pp.  180,  201). 
But  even  then  he  found  the  Apollo  Belvedere 
unspiritual  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  p.  215,  note),  and  felt 
that  its  beauty  was  palpable  to  any  fine  lady  or 
gentleman,  and  did  not  rank  with  the  higher 
reaches  of  imagination  {M.  P.,  vol.  iii.  p.  69). 
He  criticised  the  Laocoon  as  wanting  in  repose 


XVI  Sculpture  279 

and  imaginative  conception  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  p.  6"/), 
and  for  mere  beauty  he  has  said  that  the  Venus 
of  Melos  is  surpassed  by  many  a  living  English 
girl. 

The  difficulties  involved  in  this  manner  of 
work  are  so  many  and  so  great — surpassing  those 
of  bas-relief — that  it  is  no  wonder  if  perfection, 
complete  enough  to  satisfy  a  high  ideal,  is  seldom 
found.  "  Considerations  of  weight  in  mass,  of 
balance,  of  perspective  and  opposition  in  project- 
ing forms,  and  of  restraint  for  those  which  must 
not  project,  such  as  none  but  the  greatest  masters 
have  ever  completely  solved,  and  they  not  always  ; 
the  difficulty  of  arranging  the  composition  so  as 
to  be  agreeable  from  points  of  view  on  all  sides  of 
it,  being  itself  arduous  enough"  {A.  P.,  §  172). 

133.  Tke  Vices  of  Sculpture. — As  a  substitute 
for  legitimate  artistic  ideals  in  so  difficult  a  task 
the  sculptor  is  tempted  to  try  sensational  effects 
by  means  of  picturesque  Realism  and  Colour. 
Statuary,  if  it  hold  its  proper  place  and  function 
in  the  scale  of  Art,  is  the  representation  of  an  idea 
and  not  the  creation  of  a  thing.  As  an  idea  it  is 
abstract,  and  anything  that  tends  to  confuse  it 
with  real  object  is  a  mistake.  Picturesqueness, 
accessory,  deceptive  imitation,  easily  degenerate 
into  waxwork,  and  even  when  kept  within  limits 
trench  on  the  boundary  of  painting,  and  defy  the 
law  of  technical  conditions. 

Marble  is  essentially  a  material  adapted  to 
broad  surface  and  edge,  but  not  to  anything  like 
fibrous  structure  or  texture  ;  and  therefore  to  re- 
present hair,  lace,  the  material  of  drapery,  birds' 


28o  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

nests,  or  any  kind  of  realistic  detail,  is  to  re- 
fuse the  great  virtues  of  the  material  and  the  high 
possibilities  of  the  art  for  the  sake  of  something 
lower,  and  the  gaping  wonderment  of  a  thought- 
less mob.  It  is  possible  to  imitate  some  things, 
but  they  are  only  those  which  are  less  noble  and 
worthy  of  imitation — the  scales  of  a  fish,  not  the 
hair  of  an  Apollo  {^A.  P.,  §  140),  of  which  the 
sculptor  can  give  the  grace,  flow,  and  feeling,  but 
not  the  texture  and  division  {M.  P.,  vol,  ii. 
p.  200). 

And  the  virtue  of  Sculpture  being  in  its  form, 
anything  that  confuses  that  form  is  a  vice.  Now 
colour,  to  be  good,  must  not  bring  out  form  (ante, 
§  1 10),  but  confuse  it ;  it  is  so  in  Nature  and  in 
Painting,  and  if  Sculpture  were  properly  tinted 
it  would  lose  the  best  thing  it  has  to  give.  In  a 
lower  class  of  subjects,  appealing  to  the  lower 
classes  of  the  public,  coloured  Sculpture  may  be 
possible  ;  but  the  nobler  the  subject  the  less  it 
requires  colour — the  less  it  is  possible  to  apply  the 
colour  finely  enough  to  meet  the  requirements 
both  of  the  sculptor  and  the  colourist  {A.  P.,  § 
140).  The  fact  that  the  Greeks  and  Mediaevals 
coloured  their  sculpture  is  explained  by  Mr. 
Ruskin  as  a  survival  of  barbarism,  and  a  con- 
cession to  popular  ideas.  Gilding  is  sometimes 
used  by  the  early  Renaissance  sculptors  without 
offence,  but  the  Robbia  ware,  when  coloured,  is 
always  inferior  on  that  account.  "If  we  could 
colour  the  Elgin  Marbles  with  the  flesh-tint  of 
Giorgione,  I  had  rather  not  have  it  done " 
{M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  p.  195). 


XVI  Sculpture  281 

134.  The  Virtues  of  Sculpture. — Great  Sculp- 
ture is  therefore  colourless  ;  the  best  is  done  in 
pure  white  marble,  and  shows  the  character  of  its 
material  in  breadth  of  surface,  undulating  and 
subtly  modelled,  and  in  crispness  and  vigour  of 
incision.  These  qualities  cannot  be  had  except 
by  the  direct  work  of  the  artist  upon  his  block  of 
marble,  and  the  vitality  of  a  work  of  Sculpture  is, 
like  that  of  any  other  Art,  in  proportion  to  the 
evidence  of  human  feeling  displayed  in  it. 

It  results  that  execution  is  an  important 
element  in  this  as  in  all  other  work  ;  handling  in 
marble  is  as  great  as  in  oil-painting  (Z.  A.  P., 
§  40).  The  strong  execution  of  Michelangelo,  which 
makes  his  work  living  and  interesting  compared 
with  that  of  the  average  modern  sculptor,  is  the 
outcome  of  clearness  of  conception  ;  and  though 
he  could  finish  highly,  his  power  is  most  evident 
in  his  sketches  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  pp.  181,  182). 
"  A  great  sculptor  uses  his  tool  exactly  as  a  painter 
his  pencil,  and  you  may  recognise  the  decision 
of  his  thought  and  glow  of  his  temper  no  less  in 
the  workmanship  than  the  design.  The  modern 
system  of  modelling  the  work  in  clay,  getting  it 
into  form  by  machinery  "and  by  the  hands  of 
subordinates,  and  touching  it  at  last,  if,  indeed, 
the  (so-called)  sculptor  touch  it  at  all,  only  to 
correct  their  inefficiencies,  renders  the  production 
of  good  work  in  marble  a  physical  impossibility. 
The  first  result  of  it  is  that  the  sculptor  thinks  in 
clay  instead  of  marble,  and  loses  his  instinctive 
sense  of  the  proper  treatment  of  a  brittle  substance. 
The   second    is   that   neither   he   nor   the    public 


282  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

recognise  the  touch  of  the  chisel  as  expressive  of 
personal  feeling  or  power,  and  that  nothing  is 
looked  for  except  mechanical  polish"  {A.  /*.,  § 
178,  written  twenty-one  years  ago). 

Since  Sculpture  represents  an  idea,  it  does  not 
deal  with  the  realism  of  the  picturesque.  It  can- 
not, like  Painting,  render  accessories,  details,  rags 
or  finery.  It  may  render  a  figure  naked,  but 
not  disorderly  or  gaily  dressed.  If  draped,  the 
drapery  must  be  simple  and  severe,  and  any  or- 
nament strictly  subordinated  to  the  intent  and 
character  of  the  figure.  "  The  proper  subject  of 
Sculpture  is  the  spiritual  power  seen  in  the  form 
of  any  living  thing,  and  so  represented  as  to  give 
evidence  that  the  sculptor  has  loved  the  good  of 
it  and  hated  the  evil"  {A.  P.,%  115).  And  to 
conclude  a  chapter  of  excerpts,  not,  I  hope,  in 
this  case  misrepresenting  the  author's  teaching, 
let  us  read  the  conclusion  of  his  fourth  lecture. 
"  Ultimately,  I  do  not  doubt  that  you  will  rest 
satisfied  in  these  following  conclusions  : — 

"  (i)  Not  only  Sculpture,  but  all  the  other  Fine 
Arts,  must  be  for  the  people. 

"  (2)  They  must  be  didactic  to  the  people,  and 
that  as  their  chief  end.  The  Structural  Arts, 
didactic  in  their  manner ;  the  Graphic  Arts,  in 
their  matter  also  (but  see  above,  §§  81,  82). 

"(3)  And  chiefly  the  great  Representative  and 
Imaginative  Arts — that  is  to  say,  the  Drama  and 
Sculpture — are  to  teach  what  is  noble  in  past 
history,  and  lovely  in  existing  human  and  organic 
life. 

"  (4)   And  the  test  of  right  manner  of  execution 


XVI 


Sculpture  28; 


in  these  Arts,  is  that  they  strike,  in  the  most 
emphatic  manner,  the  rank  of  popular  minds  to 
which  they  are  addressed. 

"  (5)  And  the  test  of  utmost  fineness  in  execu- 
tion in  these  Arts  is  that  they  make  themselves 
be  forgotten  in  what  they  represent,  and  so  fulfil 
the  words  of  their  greatest  master, '  The  best  in  this 
kind  are  but  shadows!  " 


CHAPTER    XVII 

ENGRAVING 

135.  The  Definition. — The  incised  contour-line 
of  rudimentary  Sculpture  is  the  origin  also  of 
Engraving  and  Drawing.  The  thin  furrow  that 
emphasised  the  masses  of  barbaric  bas-relief  could 
be  imitated  on  the  early  Greek  vase,  while  the 
clay  was  wet,  with  the  stylus-point ;  or  on  the 
parchment  of  the  manuscript  by  the  silver-point  of 
the  scribe.  As  the  sculptor  used  his  chisel  for  a 
pen,  so  the  draughtsman  used  his  pen  for  a  chisel 
— there  was  no  difference  in  the  original  concep- 
tion of  the  two  Arts  ;  they  only  gradually  differ- 
entiated. And  so  we  get  an  Art  midway  between 
Sculpture  and  Painting,  which  glides  into  both 
on  its  borderlands.  Like  Sculpture  it  begins  with 
contour,  and  gradually  adds  surface -model  ling  ; 
like  Painting  it  takes  account  of  cast  shadow, 
and,  in  some  cases,  of  the  values  of  tone,  the  effect 
of  the  depth  of  local  colour  in  diminishing  light. 

But  this  Art  is  broadly  divided  into  Engraving 
and  Drawing  ;  and  the  distinction  is  a  question  of 
some  interest,  now  that  means  of  reproduction 
have    been    invented    and    perfected,  tending    to 


CHAP.  XVII  Engraving  285 

confuse  or  even  identify  the  two.  We  have  already 
admitted  that  an  Art,  to  be  at  its  best,  must 
express  the  virtues  of  its  material, — it  must  accept 
technical  conditions,  and  by  human  skill  and 
human  hand-work  make  the  best  of  them. 

It  is  commonly  thought  that  the  essence  of 
Engraving  is  in  its  power  of  reproduction  by  print- 
ing, but  that  is  only  an  accident  Lithography 
is  not  Engraving  ;  but  the  carving  of  seals  is, 
though  no  black  and  white  print  is  taken  from  them 
{A.  F.,  §  9)  ;  as  also  niello,  in  which  there  is  no 
question  of  reproduction.  Even  mezzotint,  which 
proceeds  by  effacing  the  ground  its  incisions  have 
created,  needs  that  process  as  a  preliminary  ;  it  is 
an  art  of  scratching  or  cutting,  and  it  is  often 
associated  with  an  etched  outline.  Consequently, 
the  faculty  of  reproduction  is  not  the  first  element 
in  Engraving,  but  the  fact  that  it  is  cut- work. 
Engraving  is  good,  not  in  proportion  to  its 
adaptation  to  the  printing-press,  but  in  proportion 
as  it  exhibits  the  workman's  mastery  over  the  hard 
metal  into  which  he  engraves  {A.  F.,  §  17). 

Drawing,  on  the  other  hand,  does  not  cut  into 
its  material,  but  lays  pigment  upon  it.  The  laws 
of  the  two  Arts  will  therefore  differ  as  their 
technical  conditions  differ ;  and  the  attempt  to 
confuse  them  is  an  error,  denying  the  main 
principles  of  Art,  and  tending  to  create  a  sham. 
Drawings,  if  reproduced  by  processes,  must  be  still 
drawings,  and  exhibit  the  manner  of  work  on 
paper.  Engravings  must  be  always  engravings, 
and  exhibit  the  limitations  imposed  by  the  steel 
or  wood.     Perfect  reproduction  of  drawings  which 


286  Art- TeacJiing  of  Ruskin  chap. 

are  perfect  in  their  own  kind  is  impossible,  whether 
it  be  attempted  by  the  best  possible  mechanical 
processes  or  the  best  possible  engravers.  The 
precise  qualities  which  drawing  can  give,  in  which 
the  drawing  is  especially  beautiful  and  valuable, 
are  alien  to  any  sort  of  engraving.  The  precise 
qualities  which  make  engraving  right  and  interest- 
ing are  those  which  are  not  wanted  in  drawing. 
This  must  be  clearly  understood  by  the  student 
and  the  critic  as  the  fundamental  condition  of  all 
appreciation  of  black  and  white — the  better  the 
drawing,  the  more  hopeless  it  is  to  get  it  engraved 
or  reproduced  in  any  way.  Experience  with  the 
best  engravers  and  the  most  ingenious  process- 
printers  has  led  me  to  the  conviction  that  a  draw- 
ing, say,  by  Ruskin,  simply  cannot  be  reproduced 
except  in  its  lower  and  less  artistic  qualities  :  the 
subtler  points  of  emphasis  and  tone,  of  quality  and 
modelling,  and  even  (whenever  hand-work  is  used) 
of  actual  form  and  curvature,  are  lost  or  confused, 
until  the  plate  becomes — to  any  one  who  really 
cares  for  the  refinement  of  the  original — mislead- 
ing ;  and  when  refinement  is  the  chief  feature  in 
the  draughtsman's  work,  any  reproduction  is  a  libel. 
As  engraving,  a  plate  may  be  miraculous  ;  a.s 
reproduction,  monstrous,  because  the  "lie  that  is 
half  a  truth  is  ever  the  worst  of  lies."  No  artist 
or  person  with  artistic  taste  who  gives  a  thought 
to  the  question  cares  for  reproductive  engraving 
or  etching,  except  on  the  ground  of  its  originality 
as  a  translation  from  colour  into  chiaroscuro, 
from  paint  into  ink,  and  from  draughtsman's 
handling    to     engraver's.      Consequently,    and    a 


XVII 


Engraving  287 


fortiori,  since  it  does  not  attempt  to  translate  but  to 
facsimile,  mechanical  reproduction  is  not  an  artistic 
process  ;  although  it  was  hoped  at  one  time  by 
Mr.  Ruskin  that  it  might  become  so  (Z.  A.,  §  10), 
as  he  hoped,  on  the  invention  of  Daguerreotype, 
that  Photography  would  supersede  all  the  lower 
forms  of  objective  painting.  But  the  principles  of 
Art  Philosophy  are  too  well  based  to  be  upset  by 
an  invention. 

136.  Line. — The  relation  of  Nature  to  Art 
is,  however,  constant,  whatever  be  the  material 
employed  to  translate  it  ;  and  though  the  kind  of 
line  drawn  by  the  draughtsman  be  different  from 
that  cut  by  the  engraver,  it  must  be  either  part  of 
the  outline,  or  part  of  the  texture,  or  part  of  the 
shading  of  the  subject  represented. 

Outline  is  an  abstraction  ;  it  does  not  exist,  as 
such,  in  Nature.  It  is  only  our  manner  of  mark- 
ing off  one  mass  of  colour  from  those  masses 
which  surround  it  in  the  field  of  vision  ;  it  is  a 
translation  of  an  idea  into  a  thing.  Sometimes 
there  are  dark  lines  round  the  masses  we  see  in 
Nature,  as  round  cumulus  clouds,  or  limbs  fore- 
shortened, owing  to  the  strengthening  by  perspec- 
tive of  a  non-luminous  envelope  surrounding  a 
luminous  body — the  hair  on  an  arm,  or  the  outer 
mist  on  a  cloud  ;  this  is  not  true  outline,  but 
modelling.  The  true  outline  is  in  Nature  a 
geometrical  line — the  locus  of  a  point  ;  impalpable, 
but  usually  quite  definite  ;  not  an  object,  but  a 
situation  :  "  Infinitely  subtle — not  even  a  line,  but 
the  place  of  a  line,  and  that,  also,  made  soft  by 
texture.      In   the   finest    painting   it    is   therefore 


288  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

slightly  softened  ;  but  it  is  necessary  to  be  able  to 
draw  it  with  absolute  sharpness  and  precision " 
(Z.  A.§  130). 

Engraving  begins  in  outline  ;  and  as  long  as 
it  does  outline  it  must  keep  to  the  laws  of  outline, 
which,  as  it  is  abstract,  intellectual,  conventional, 
must  not  be  confused  with  other  uses  of  the  black 
stroke  which  is  called  a  line  in  Art.  "  Always 
conventional,  it  is  to  be  sustained  throughout  in 
the  frankness  of  its  conventionalism ;  it  no  more 
exists  in  Nature  as  a  visible  line,  at  the  edge  of  a 
rose-leaf  near,  than  of  a  ridge  of  hills  far  away. 
Never  try  to  express  more  by  it  than  the  limita- 
tion of  forms  ;  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  their 
shadows  or  their  distances  "  {L.  /^,  chap.  viii.  §  17). 
A  pure  outline  is  therefore  the  preparation  for 
painting.  In  Engraving  it  is  rarely  seen.  The  so- 
called  outline  engravings  are  usually  an  attempt  to 
suggest  shadow  and  projection,  and  fail  in  being 
interesting  because  they  do  not,  on  the  one  hand, 
give  as  much  shadow  and  projection  as  a  little 
more  work  and  franker  sketching  would  give ; 
nor  do  they,  on  the  other  hand,  dwell  on  the 
beauty  of  contour  and  harmony  of  pure  form 
enough  to  justify  the  highly  abstract  manner  of 
their  treatment. 

But  although  the  outline  does  not  exist  in  Nature 
it  does  in  Art ;  and  when  it  is  accepted  as  an  aim 
in  itself  it  may  be  beautifully  used,  as  in  decora- 
tive work  and  in  glass -painting.  The  pleasure 
derived  from  such  work  is  of  an  inteljectual  nature ; 
it  is  like  that  of  musical  composition,  divested  of 
imitation — design  pure  and  simple.      But  for  this 


XVII 


Engraving  289 


reason  it  cannot  be  a  popular  thing ;  it  is  not 
sensational,  and  very  slightly  representative,  and 
yet  it  is  the  first  test  of  high  artistic  feeling,  and 
the  last  power  that  the  young  student  or  amateur 
can  hope  to  attain.  Whenever  it  is  found  in  per- 
fection it  marks  a  high  standard  of  perception  and 
development  in  the  artistic  nature  and  work  of  the 
nation  or  individual  producing  it.  The  first  re- 
quirement, it  is  the  last  accomplishment  of  Art. 

137.  Linear  Texture. — The  second  use  of  line 
is  in  expressing  texture  of  a  fibrous  sort,  produced 
by  filaments  or  threads,  as  in  feathers,  fur,  hair, 
and  woven  or  reticulated  tissues.  "  A  vast  quan- 
tity of  the  Art  of  all  ages  depends  for  a  great  part 
of  its  power  on  texture  produced  by  multitudi- 
nous lines.  Thus,  wood-engraving,  line-engraving 
properly  so  called,  and  countless  varieties  of 
sculpture,  metalwork,  and  textile  fabric,  depend 
for  great  part  of  the  effect,  for  the  mystery,  soft- 
ness, and  clearness  of  their  colours  or  shades,  on 
modification  of  the  surfaces  by  lines  or  threads.  .  .  . 
The  earliest  Art  in  most  countries  is  linear,  con- 
sisting of  interwoven,  or  richly  spiral,  and  otherwise 
involved  arrangements  of  sculptured  or  painted 
lines,  on  stone,  wood,  metal,  or  clay"  {L.  A.,  §§ 

135-137). 

When  lines  are  thus  used  they  are  no  longer 
abstract,  but  representative  of  actual  dark  elongated 
narrow  spaces  in  the  field  of  vision.  To  antici- 
pate a  little, — for  the  cross-divisions  of  so  compli- 
cated a  subject  make  it  difficult  to  proceed  with 
absolute  sequence  and  symmetry, — when  lines  are 
used    for   shading   they,  again,   do  not   represent 

U 


2  90  A  rt-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

actual  objective  facts  as  lines ;  they  are  grouped 
together  to  produce  an  aggregate  of  darkness.  So 
we  have  three  uses  of  the  line :  First,  abstract, 
as  standing  for  limitation  ;  second,  concrete,  as 
standing  for  texture  fibres ;  third,  abstract,  as 
forming  a  part  of  shading.  The  outline  is,  there- 
fore, to  be  regarded  as  intellectual,  and  to  behave 
as  such.  The  line  used  for  texture  is  actual,  and 
is  to  be  treated  as  a  source  of  decorative  material 
— thickened  and  thinned,  curved  and  radiated, 
arranged  to  express  surface  and  solidity,  following 
the  shape  of  the  object.  The  line  used  for  shad- 
ing is  different  from  this,  and,  whether  curved  or 
straight,  is  simply  and  solely  a  part  of  the  woven 
tone  ;  it  must  not  pretend  to  model  the  surface 
except  by  gradation  of  tone. 

138.  Curvature. — Both  the  outline  and  the 
line  expressing  texture  represent  the  forms  of 
Nature  which  owe  their  beauty  in  great  part  to 
their  curvature.  Straight  or  rugged  lines  are  neces- 
sary to  the  beauty  of  Nature,  just  as  darkness  is 
to  light,  but  are  not  themselves  beautiful.  Any 
curve  is  more  beautiful  than  any  straight  line  ; 
but  some  curves  are  more  beautiful  than  others, 
namely,  infinite  more  beautiful  than  finite  curves  ; 
and  those  which  suggest  the  quickest  attainment  of 
infinity  are  the  most  beautiful.  For  example,  a 
circle,  or  an  ellipse,  is  finite, — returns  upon  itself; 
a  spiral  spring,  wound  tight,  is  an  infinite  curve  of 
slow  development,  but  in  the  act  of  springing  loose 
it  is  "  attaining  infinity  "  {i.e.  approximating  to,  but 
not  attaining,  straightness,  M.  /*.,  vol.  iv.  chap,  xvii.) 

"  Almost  all  these  lines  are  expressive  of  action 


XVII 


Engraving  291 


or  force  of  some  kind,  while  the  circle  is  a  line  of 
limitation  or  support.  In  leafage  they  mark  the 
forces  of  its  growth  or  expansion,  but  some  among 
the  most  beautiful  of  them  are  described  by  bodies 
variously  in  motion,  or  subjected  to  force, — as  by 
projectiles  in  the  air,  by  the  particles  of  water  in 
a  gentle  current,  by  planets  in  motion  in  an  orbit, 
by  their  satellites,  if  the  actual  path  of  the  satellite 
in  space  be  considered  instead  of  its  relation  to 
the  planet ;  by  boats  or  birds,  turning  in  the  water 
or  in  the  air,  by  clouds  in  various  action  upon 
the  wind,  by  sails  in  the  curvatures  they  assume 
under  its  force,  and  by  thousands  of  other 
objects  moving  or  bearing  force.  .  .  .  Circular 
curves,  on  the  contrary,  are  always,  I  think,  curves 
of  limitation  or  support ;  that  is  to  say,  curves  of 
perfect  rest.  ...  The  circle  is  the  consequence 
not  of  the  energy  of  the  body,  but  of  its  being 
forbidden  to  leave  the  centre"  {S.  V.,  vol.  i.  chap. 
XX.  §  20). 

From  another  point  of  view  the  same  kind  of 
curve  may  be  considered  as  expressing  restraint 
or  moderation,  one  of  the  laws  of  Beauty — the 
restraint  of  the  artist  producing  the  same  result 
with  that  of  the  energy  of  Nature.  In  Nature 
action  approximates  to  the  straight  line  without 
attaining  it ;  it  is  only  theoretically  that  any  body 
will  move  in  a  straight  line  ;  practically  there  are 
disturbing  influences  of  gravitation,  etc.  In  Art 
the  movement  of  the  hand,  and  the  love  of  Beauty, 
and  instinct  for  curvature,  tend  to  violence  of 
curvature,  and  straightness  is  the  result  of  thought- 
fulness.       But    absolute    straightness    is    thought 


292  Art- Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

unconditioned  by  emotion,  and  therefore  scientific, 
not  artistic.  On  the  other  hand,  violent  curvature 
impHes  unbridled  appetite  for  emotional  excite- 
ment ;  and  "  the  great  and  temperate  designer 
does  not  allow  himself  any  violent  curves ;  he 
works  much  with  lines  in  which  the  curvature, 
though  always  existing,  is  long  before  it  is  per- 
ceived. He  dwells  on  all  those  subdued  curvatures 
to  the  uttermost,  and  opposes  them  with  still 
severer  lines  to  bring  them  out  in  fuller  sweetness  ; 
and,  at  last,  he  allows  himself  a  momentary  curve 
of  energy,  and  all  the  work  is,  in  an  instant,  full 
of  life  and  grace "  {S.  V.,  vol.  iii.  chap.  i.  §  8). 
This  is  illustrated  in  the  difference  of  design  in 
earlier  Gothic  and  the  later  Flamboyant  "  curlie- 
whirlies  and  whigmaleeries,"  which,  by  mere  re- 
dundance and  intemperance  of  curvature,  cancel 
one  another's  effect.  In  Nature  these  subtle  and 
infinite  curves  are  used  in  every  possible  combina- 
tion, and  the  first  condition  of  the  use  of  the  line 
is  sensitiveness  to  their  presence  ;  the  next,  appre- 
ciation of  their  subtlety. 

This  subject  of  curvature  is  one  to  which  Mr. 
Ruskin  continually  returns,  as  of  capital  importance 
to  Art ;  and  in  an  art  like  Engraving,  where  the 
line  plays  so  important  a  part,  it  must  be  kept 
prominently  in  view,  as  distinguishing  good  work 
from  bad. 

139.  Methods  of  Engraving.  —  "  Engraving, 
then,  is,  in  brief  terms,  the  Art  of  Scratch."  If  it 
be  permitted  to  a  compiler  to  record  his  personal 
impressions,  I  should  like  to  recollect  the  histrionic 
delivery    of   that   sentence,   in   which    the    Slade 


XVII  Engraving  293 

Professor,  more  than  eighteen  years  ago,  gave  the 
syllabus  of  his  course  in  a  word  and  a  gesture 
never  to  be  forgotten  by  his  audience :  "  It  is 
essentially  the  cutting  into  a  solid  substance  for 
the  sake  of  making  your  ideas  as  permanent  as 
possible — graven  with  an  iron  pen  in  the  rock  for 
ever.  Permanence,  you  observe,  is  the  object, 
not  multiplicability.  ...  As  the  primitive  design 
is  in  lines  or  dots,  the  primitive  cutting  of 
such  design  is  a  scratch  or  a  hole ;  and  scratch- 
able  solids  being  essentially  three — stone,  wood, 
metal — we  shall  have  three  great  schools  of  en- 
graving to  investigate  in  each  material"  {A.  F., 

§34). 

The  engraving  in  stone  is  that  of  which  we 
have  spoken  as  a  form  of  architectural  decoration, 
illustrated  by  the  marble  and  serpentine  mosaics 
of  San  Michele  at  Lucca  ;  and  developing  into 
Florentine  mosaic  on  the  one  hand,  niello  on  the 
other,  and  infinite  minor  arts.  It  ranks  with  the 
other  kinds  of  Engraving  as  distinct  from  Drawing, 
because  the  line  can  be  cut  with  effort  only,  and 
not  easily.  "  An  engraved  line  is,  and  ought  to 
be,  recognised  as  more  grand  than  a  pen  or  pencil 
line,  because  it  was  more  difficult  to  execute  it.  .  .  . 
Every  line  has  been  costly  ;  but  observe,  costly  of 
deliberative,  no  less  than  of  athletic  or  executive 
power."  There  is  no  rubbing  out  in  the  finest 
engraving ;  the  line  is  laid  down  once  for  all. 
In  Diirer's  Knight  and  Death  the  horse's  leg 
was  altered,  but  the  original  line  remains,  partly 
turned  into  blades  of  grass, — still  puzzling  the 
interpreters. 


294  -^  ^^"  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

Engraving  on  metal  differs  from  pen-drawing 
in  its  greater  precision  and  fineness — a  perfect 
point  on  a  perfect  surface,  which  offers  greater 
possibilities  and  greater  difficulties.  An  enormous 
amount  of  labour  is  given  to  the  hatching  and 
stippling  of  finished  plates ;  and  the  technical 
results  are  so  interesting  in  themselves  that  they 
obscure,  in  most  instances,  the  purely  artistic  value 
of  the  original  intention,  and  degrade  the  artist 
into  the  artificer. 

The  fact  that  the  line  is  the  valuable  thing  in 
Engraving  makes  it  important  to  give  prominence 
to  the  line  as  such,  and  not  to  use  it  merely  as  a 
laborious  method  of  getting  tone  and  gradation 
of  modelling,  which  can  be  better  got  by  other 
methods.  As  a  sculptor's  first  business  is  to 
make  his  surfaces  pleasant  in  themselves,  so  an 
engraver's  business  is  to  make  his  lines  pleasant 
in  themselves  ;  to  choose  such  subjects,  and  to  use 
such  treatment  as  will  bring  out  their  full  value 
as  a  decorative  material.  This  was  done  in  the 
early  examples  attributed  to  Baccio  Band  in  i  from 
Botticelli's  designs — examples  at  any  rate  of 
Botticelli's  time.  In  these  there  is  little  attempt 
at  chiaroscuro,  no  refinement  of  gradation,  but  the 
lines  are  full  of  thought  and  feeling,  giving  full 
scope  to  ideal  beauty.  They  are  done  at  a  single 
cut  on  copper,  as  they  cannot  be  done  on  steel ; 
and  consequently  have  more  power  and  grace  than 
the  duller  and  more  laborious  retouchings  of  modern 
work,  with  its  mechanical  methods. 

No  realisation,  no  chiaroscuro  is  possible  to 
this  work.     It  is  purely  artistic.     The  introduction 


XVII 


Engraving  295 


of  alien  ambitions  is  the  ruin  of  this,  as  of  any- 
other  art  {A.  F.,  Lect.  iv.)  It  is  impossible  to 
engrave  good  colour-painting,  and  the  designer's 
intention  must  be  altered  to  suit  it  to  the  require- 
ments of  the  public.  So  that  the  modern  school 
of  engraving  does  harm  not  only  to  its  own  Art, 
but  to  that  of  the  painter.  The  right  sort  of  work 
for  the  engraver  is:  (i)  Outlines  from  the  great 
frescoes  of  the  thirteenth,  fourteenth,  and  fifteenth 
centuries  in  Italy,  with  so  much  pale  tinting  as 
may  be  explanatory  of  their  main  masses,  with 
the  local  darks  and  lights  brilliantly  relieved  ;  (2) 
finished  small  plates  for  book  illustration  ;  (3) 
vigorous  mezzotints  from  pictures  of  the  great 
masters,  which  originally  present  noble  contrasts  of 
light  and  shade  ;  (4)  original  designs  by  painters 
themselves,  decisively  engraved  in  few  lines  {iiot 
etched).  And  the  able  men  who  are  spending  their 
strength  on  a  mistaken  Art  should  devote  them- 
selves to  making  intelligent  and  interesting  coloured 
copies  of  the  original  works,  which  would  be  more 
honoured,  and  more  truly  popularised  thereby 
{A.  F.,  Appendix,  and  Cestus  of  Aglaia^  chap. 
ix.)  That  such  copies  are  worth  making  has  been 
proved  by  Mr.  Ward,  Mr.  A.  Macdonald,  now 
Curator  of  the  University  Galleries,  Mr.  Fairfax 
Murray,  Signor  Alessandri,  and  others,  who  have 
been  employed  by  Mr.  Ruskin  for  the  purpose. 

140.  Woodcutting.  —  The  third  form  of  the 
"  Art  of  Scratch  "  is  that  which  makes  its  incisions 
upon  wood  ;  and  here  the  intention  of  permanence 
is  divided  with  that  of  reproduction.  It  is  conse- 
quently a  lower  form  of  the  Art,  and   in    some 


296  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

manners  of  woodcutting,  where  the  complete 
picture  is  drawn  by  one  artist  and  cut  by  another, 
tends  to  servility.  But  in  proportion  as  the 
engraver  chooses  his  own  line  and  develops  it 
according  to  the  technical  conditions,  it  becomes 
artistic.  The  cuts  by  the  late  Mr.  Burgess  in 
Aratra  Pentelici  may  be  named  as  exemplary  of 
the  refinement  of  the  Art,  without  any  attempt  at 
microscopic  handling  ;  the  lines  are  visible  enough, 
but  they  are  instinct  with  feeling. 

Wood,  as  being  easier  to  cut  than  metal, 
accepts  a  ruder  and  more  elementary  treatment. 
That  is  not  obtained  by  a  sketchy  handling  of  the 
pencil  of  the  draughtsman  on  wood,  which  gener- 
ally leaves  greater  and  more  servile  labour  to  the 
engraver.  The  thin  even  line  of  metal-engraving 
is  its  technical  condition  ;  the  thick  and  varying 
dark  line  is  the  virtue  of  a  woodcut  {A.  F.,  Lect.  iii.) 

On  the  other  hand,  thin  light  lines  can  easily 
be  cut  in  wood,  and  the  modern  school  of  wood- 
engraving  has  done  ingenious  work  in  this  kind. 
But  there  is  a  difference  between  the  white  line 
and  the  white  space.  White  lines  do  not  express 
transparency  ;  when  they  are  used  in  hatching  to 
represent  flesh  they  fail  of  perfect  effect,  because 
it  is  the  veil  of  dark  over  light,  the  network  of 
black  lines,  that  gives  the  transparent  texture  of 
flesh  ;  and  transparency  as  well  as  gradation  is 
required  in  flesh  painting  {A.  E.,  Lect.  v.) 

But  the  white  space  is  the  true  distinctive  virtue 
of  woodcut — such  as  Bewick  used — so  long  as  it 
does  not  leave  a  black  space.  The  sensational 
and  violent  contrasts  of  black  and  white  in  cheap 


XVII  Engraving  297 

woodcutting  show,  not  the  virtues  of  the  material, 
but  its  vice.  All  great  Art  is  delicate.  White 
spaces,  leaving  firm  and  determined,  but  not  too 
even  and  fragile,  lines — the  style  of  Holbein — 
are  therefore  the  final  and  ultimate  conception  of 
wood-engraving.  But  in  this  manner,  as  in  metal, 
chiaroscuro  is  impossible  ;  tone  is  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. And  the  virtue  of  the  Art  is  to  express 
what  cannot  be  expressed  by  any  other  means  ;  it 
must  leave  to  others  the  subtle  gradations  and 
values  of  tone  and  modelling,  and  lean  upon  its 
white  space  and  firm  varied  line.  Of  modern 
work  the  engravings  in  "  Punch,"  after  Mr.  du 
Maurier  and  Mr.  Tenniel,  are  cited  by  Mr.  Ruskin 
as  praiseworthy  in  their  degree  because  they  leave 
chiaroscuro,  and  dwell  upon  local  colour  and  char- 
acteristic outline,  but  not  enough  so  to  be  great 
Art.  The  hatching  in  them  is  a  concession  to 
popular  taste,  confused  with  modern  line-engrav- 
ing and  pen -drawing  ;  they  have  the  elements  of 
greatness  mingled  with  that  want  of  lucidity  in 
aim  which  is  characteristic  of  modern  life.  "  Used 
rightly,  on  its  own  ground,  it  is  the  vtost  purely 
intellectual  of  all  Art.  Fine  woodcutting  is  entirely 
abstract,  thoughtful,  and  passionate "  {Cestus  of 
Aglaia,  chap,  ix.) 

141.  Etching. — In  The  Elements  of  Drawing, 
and  all  his  earlier  writing,  Mr.  Ruskin  gave  Rem- 
brandt's etchings  as  standard  work  for  the  student's 
imitation,  especially  the  "  Spotted  Shell."  But 
later  on  he  gave  his  reasons  in  the  Cestus  of 
Aglaia  (chap,  v.)  against  the  study  of  this  form  of 
Art,  in  which  violent  chiaroscuro  and  overwrought 


298  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

modelling  arc  combined  with  an  absence  of  decision 
and  precision,  which  makes  it  an  unsafe  guide  for 
a  beginner.  Not  that  all  Rembrandt's  etchings 
are  alike  in  this  respect,  nor  that  his  best  are  not 
the  best  things  of  their  kind  ;  but  in  putting 
examples  before  the  student  it  is  necessary  to  show 
him  what  may  serve  for  ideals  of  treatment  and 
expression  without  fail  or  error.  And  as  it  is 
innate  in  the  artistic  beginner  to  scribble  rather 
than  to  draw,  and  to  look  for  strength  of  grada- 
tion rather  than  for  values,  these  works  tend  to 
strengthen  him  in  his  errors,  and  can  be  safely 
studied  only  after  his  ideals  are  formed  on  definite 
principles,  and  his  perceptions  made  delicate  by 
severer  models. 

The  Lectures  on  Engraving  contain  no  account 
of  etching,  which  is  summarily  treated  in  a  letter 
to  "  The  Architect "  (27th  December  1 873)  on  the 
text  supplied  by  Mr.  Ernest  George's  works.  The 
critic  begins,  after  his  manner,  by  complimenting, 
and  then — students  who  have  worked  under  him 
know  the  terror,  and  the  tonic,  of  the  cold  douche. 
"  As  soon  as  Mr.  George  has  learned  what  true 
light  and  shade  is  (and  a  few  careful  studies  with 
brush  or  chalk  would  enable  him  to  do  so)  he  will 
not  labour  his  etched  subjects  in  vain.  The  virtue 
of  an  etching,  in  this  respect,  is  to  express  perfectly 
harmonious  sense  of  light  and  shade,  but  not  to 
realise  it.  All  fine  etchings  are  done  with  few 
lines. 

"  Secondly — and  this  is  a  still  more  important 
general  principle  (I  must  let  myself  fall  into  dicta- 
torial terms  for  brevity's  sake) — let  your  few  lines 


XVII  Engraving  299 

be  sternly  clear,  however  delicate,  or  however  dark. 
All  burr  and  botch  is  child's  play,  and  a  true 
draughtsman  must  never  be  at  the  mercy  of  his 
copper  and  ink.  Drive  your  line  well  and  fairly 
home  ;  do  not  scrawl  or  zigzag  ;  know  where  your 
hand  is  going,  and  what  it  is  doing,  to  a  hair's- 
breadth,  then  bite  clear  and  clean,  and  let  the  last 
impression  be  as  good  as  the  first.  When  it  begins 
to  fail,  break  your  plate. 

"  Third  general  principle.  Do  not  depend  much 
on  various  biting.  For  a  true  master  and  a  great 
purpose,  even  one  biting  is  enough.  By  no  flux 
or  dilution  of  acid  can  you  ever  etch  a  curl  of  hair 
or  a  cloud  ;  and  if  you  think  you  can  etch  the 
gradations  of  coarser  things,  it  is  only  because  you 
have  never  seen  them.  Try  at  your  leisure  to 
etch  a  teacup  or  a  tallow  candle,  of  their  real 
size ;  see  what  you  can  make  of  the  gradations 
of  these  familiar  articles ;  if  you  succeed  to  your 
mind,  you  may  try  something  more  difficult 
afterwards." 

In  other  words,  etching,  like  all  engraving 
hitherto  named,  is  not  essentially  an  Art  of  chiar- 
oscuro, but  of  line.  It  may  give  strength  of  shadow, 
as  Mr.  Ruskin  has  done,  none  more  vigorously,  in 
his  soft-ground  plates  to  The  Seveii  Lamps  (early 
editions)  ;  or  it  may  give  exquisite  refinement  of 
line,  like  his  plates  in  Modern  Painters,  but  not 
modelling,  or  tone,  in  a  safe,  complete,  and  legiti- 
mate manner.  However  strongly  worded  his 
advice  may  seem,  it  coincides  with  the  principles 
of  our  good  modern  masters  of  the  craft,  whose 
lightest   and   most  linear  work  is  their  best  and 


300  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

greatest.  It  is  only  the  second-rate  aquafortist 
whose  hand  runs  away  with  him  ;  it  is  only  the 
inferior  critic  who  demands  a  result  incompatible 
with  technical  conditions. 

142.  Mezzotint. — The  proper  means  of  expres- 
sion by  Engraving,  in  the  kinds  hitherto  considered, 
is  the  line.  Neither  woodcutting  nor  etching,  in 
the  conception  of  them,  undertake  chiaroscuro  ; 
but  that  is  the  province  of  mezzotint ;  and  the 
revival  of  this  Art  in  the  hands  of  artists  is  a 
healthy  sign  of  recent  progress.  Much  of  the  work 
that  is  badly  done  in  etching  may  be  perfectly  done 
in  mezzotint ;  gradation  and  modelling,  light  and 
shade  in  all  its  strength  and  variety,  tone  with 
its  subtleties,  can  be  got  permanently  and  beauti- 
fully in  the  scraped  plate  ;  and  if  it  be  combined 
with  etched  outline,  as  in  Turner's  Liber  Sticdi- 
orum,  a  legitimate  method  is  offered  to  the  lover 
of  chiaroscuro.  This  etched  outline  is  necessary  to 
complete  the  picture,  when  it  is  to  satisfy  the  eye 
of  a  draughtsman  {L.  A.,^  161)  ;  but  fine  work 
has  been  done  without  it,  or  almost  without  it,  in 
the  plates  of  The  Harbours  of  England,  engraved 
by  Lupton  after  Turner.  Such  pure  mezzotint, 
however,  tends  to  heaviness  and  a  want  of  brilli- 
ancy ;  and  to  obviate  this  Turner  used  to  scratch 
the  proofs  with  the  penknife,  sparkling  them  over 
with  scattered  lights,  to  the  great  damage  of  the 
breadth  and  repose  of  his  drawing,  as  in  the  Ports- 
mouth of  that  series,  where  the  lower  part  of  the 
picture  is  completely  spoiled  by  this  unworthy 
concession  to  popular  requirement.  But  when  the 
etched   line  is  used,  as  in  all  the  mezzotints  in 


XVII  Engraving  301 

Mr.  Ruskin's  works  (for  example,  the  fine  Geranium 
engraved  by  Mr.  George  Allen  in  L.  F.),  there  is 
no  such  sense  of  dulness  ;  the  contrast  of  crisp  line 
and  soft  gradation  is  parallel  to  that  of  incision 
and  surface  in  fine  Sculpture. 

Our  author's  notices  of  Engraving,  especially 
his  condemnation  of  the  usual  aims  and  ambitions 
in  popular  woodcutting  and  etching,  often  seem 
unreasonable  to  the  reader  who  comes  upon  them 
isolated  in  the  corners  of  newspapers  and  the 
chance  pages  of  magazines.  But  it  is  impossible  to 
review  his  whole  scheme  of  Art  criticism  without 
coming  to  the  conclusion  that  a  consistent  system 
underlies  his  particular  judgments  ;  that  he  delivers 
his  sentences  in  accordance  with  a  well-established 
code  of  laws  ;  and  that  the  justice  of  his  condem- 
nation or  approbation  can  never  be  understood  or 
impugned  without  reference  to  that  code,  and  to 
the  constitution  of  the  realm  of  Art  as  a  whole. 
In  certain  instances  he  may  err,  as  any  judge  may 
err,  by  an  over-severe  sentence,  or  too  lenient  view 
of  the  case  ;  but  like  any  other  judge,  he  is  not 
giving  out  mere  casual  and  unconsidered  opinions. 
When  he  sends  an  offending  artist  to  penal  servi- 
tude with  the  charcoal  or  the  pen,  still  more  when 
he  puts  on  the  black  cap,  there  is  always  a  kind- 
hearted  outcry  from  an  uncritical  public,  and  plenty 
of  ingenious  special  pleading  for  the  prisoner  at 
the  bar.  But  there  are  very  few  persons  who,  like 
Mr.  Ruskin,  have  taken  the  trouble  to  investigate 
the  laws  of  this  great  kingdom  of  human  life  ;  and 
fewer  who  base  their  judgments,  like  him,  on  an 
acquaintance   with    the    constitution    of   all    Art. 


302  A  rt- Teaching  of  Ruskin     chap,  xvn 

And  in  this  review  of  the  laws  of  Engraving, 
which  we  have  roughly  codified  in  connection  with 
those  of  other  Arts,  we  have  seen,  if  nothing  else, 
the  logical  necessity  of  some  of  his  most  surprising 
conclusions. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

DRAWING 

143.  Light. — In  opening  the  whole  discussion  of 
the  laws  of  Beauty  {M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  chap,  v.)  Mr. 
Ruskin  mentioned  as  the  earliest  and  strongest  im- 
pression received  from  landscape  nature,  that  of 
the  sky,  relieved  in  light  against  a  dark  near  fore- 
ground, which  cuts  off  the  horizon.  It  is  not  the 
intensity  of  light,  nor  the  forms  of  mountain  or 
cloud,  that  produces  that  effect,  "  but  there  is  one 
thing  that  it  has,  or  suggests,  which  no  other 
object  of  sight  suggests  in  equal  degree,  and  that 
is — Infinity."  And  later  on  in  the  same  chapter 
he  shows  that  the  artistic  expression  of  Infinity  in 
lines  is  subtle  curvature  ;  in  tones  gradation.  So 
that  there  is  a  connection  in  thought  established 
between  luminosity  and  gradation,  which  is  analo- 
gous to  their  connection  in  fact.  "  On  the  right 
gradation  of  focusing  of  light  and  colour  depends, 
in  great  measure,  the  value  of  both.  And  it  is 
generally  to  be  observed  that  even  raw  and  value- 
less colour,  if  rightly  and  subtly  gradated,  will  in 
some  measure  stand  for  light ;  and  that  the  most 
transparent    and    perfect     hue    will    be    in    some 


304  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

measure  unsatisfactory  if  entirely  unvaried.  I 
believe,"  he  says,  "  the  early  skies  of  Raphael  owe 
their  luminousness  more  to  their  untraceable  and 
subtle  gradation  than  to  inherent  quality  of  hue  " 
[M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  p.  46). 

Some  twenty-five  years  later  he  was  still  teach- 
ing the  same  doctrine  in  the  first  Oxford  lectures, 
showing  "how  entirely  effects  of  light  depend  on 
delineation,  and  gradation  of  spaces,  and  not  on 
methods  of  shading,"  with  instances  from  Diirer, 
Turner,  and  Leonardo.  And  later  still  he  tells 
the  student  that  the  attention  must  be  fixed  on 
"  the  gradation  of  the  luminous  surface "  {L.  /^, 
chap.  X.  §  10),  and  illustrating  it  with  a  fine 
mezzotint  from  his  drawing  of  a  globe,  so  deli- 
cately gradated  that  it  seems  to  stand  from  the 
page  as  a  thing  of  light  ;  and  that  without  any 
violent  contrast  of  background,  which  here  is  a 
tender  gray.  The  gist  of  his  doctrine  is,  that 
light,  whether  of  the  sky,  or  of  any  reflecting  sur- 
face, is  shown  in  Nature  and  represented  in  Art. 
by  tender  gradation,  not  by  forcing  its  contrast 
against  strong  darkness ;  in  other  words,  that 
the  Rembrandtesque  chiaroscuro,  if  intended  as 
a  means  of  getting  light,  is  a  mistake.  Shade  is 
a  necessary  condition  of  light,  but  not  violent 
shade.  Not  only  does  light  tell  by  suffusion 
obliterating  the  gloom,  but  its  essential  effect  is 
not  contrast  so  much  as  gradation. 

144.  Shade. — The  essential  effect  of  shade  is, 
on  the  contrary,  not  depth,  but  flatness.  In  shade 
the  reflected  light  tells  by  its  gradation,  but  the 
whole  mass  of  shade  as  distinct — and  it  must  be 


XVIII  Drawing  305 

quite  distinct — from  light,  tells  as  the  flat  space 
contrasted  with  the  gradated  mass.  The  beginner 
ought  not  to  look  for  reflected  light  ;  he  is  to 
keep  his  study  broad  in  its  division  of  light  from 
darkness  ;  "  the  work  of  the  feeblest  artists  may- 
be known  by  the  vulgar  glittering  of  its  light,  and 
the  far-sought  reflection  in  its  shadow  "  {L.  F.,  chap. 
X.  §  9).  "  And  now  we  find  the  use  of  having 
Leonardo  for  our  guide.  He  is  supreme  in  all 
questions  of  execution;  and  in  his  28th  chapter 
you  will  find  that  shadows  are  to  be  dolce  e 
sfumose,  to  be  tender,  and  to  look  as  if  they  were 
exhaled  or  breathed  on  the  paper.  Then  look  at 
any  of  Michelangelo's  finished  drawings,  or  of 
Correggio's  sketches,  and  you  will  see  that  the 
true  nurse  of  light  is  in  Art,  as  in  Nature,  the 
cloud  ;  a  misty  and  tender  darkness,  made  lovely 
by  gradation"  (Z.  A.,  §  164). 

Mr.  Ruskin  has  never  been  supposed  to  be  an 
advocate  of  "  Breadth  at  any  price"  ;  but  drawings 
executed  in  this  way  cannot  fail  of  breadth.  It 
is  not  sparkle,  nor  the  whiteness  of  isolated  patches, 
nor  the  contrast  of  vigorous  gloom,  that  can  give 
luminosity,  he  teaches  ;  but  the  quiet  and  delicate 
gradation  of  the  lighted  masses,  as  opposed  to  the 
quiet  and  delicate  flatness  of  the  spaces  in  shade. 
The  shade  must  not  be  dark,  or  the  suffusion  of 
light  is  lost ;  it  must  not  be  greatly  varied  in  tone, 
or  the  relation  of  its  values  to  the  much  more 
varied  values  of  the  light  is  lost.  Nature's  abso- 
lute light  and  dark  cannot  usually  be  imitated  ; 
all  we  can  do  is  to  represent  the  relations  of  tone  ; 
and   this  rule  is  a  memorandum   of  the  normal 

X 


3o6  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

conditions,  namely,  that  the  h'ght  masses  are  much 
more  widely  varied  in  tone  than  the  dark  ;  the 
lights  have  a  wider  range  of  values  than  the  darks. 

145.  Methods  of  Draughtsmanship. — Light  and 
shade  are  therefore  absolutely  independent  of 
material  or  method  of  production  or  execution,  so 
long  as  the  light  is  subtly  gradated,  and  the  dark 
tender  and  quiet. 

The  methods  of  production  in  Drawing  are 
three  :  id)  black-lead  pencil  or  chalk  or  silver  point, 
{U)  pen,  and  (f)  the  brush,  called  in  Laws  of  F^sole 
the  pencil,  after  the  old-fashioned  use  of  the  word. 
These  can  all  be  used  for  two  purposes — to  draw 
lines  or  to  make  tints.  The  first  two  instruments 
are  closely  related  to  the  practices  of  Engraving, 
and  the  last  to  those  of  Painting.  But  in  Draw- 
ing their  use  is  legitimately  to  express  chiaroscuro, 
based  on  delineation.  Without  previous  delinea- 
tion, the  right  amount  of  light  and  dark,  their 
proper  placing  and  shaping,  are  impossible  ;  and, 
consequently,  the  "  Mother  Outline,"  as  Blake 
called  it,  is  a  necessary  beginning.  But  how  far 
this  preliminary  is  to  be  demanded  as  a  separate 
end,  perfectly  attained  in  itself,  is  doubtful.  The 
best  artists  have  not  left  any  perfect  outlines 
(except  in  Engraved  works),  and  yet  Mr,  Ruskin 
is  inclined  to  require  from  students  as  complete 
an  outline  as  possible.  In  T/ie  Elements  of  Draw- 
ing he  waives  this  requirement,  but  insists  upon  it 
in  The  Laws  of  F^sole  {Cestus  of  Aglaia,  chap.  i.  ; 
E.  D.,  Preface  ;  L.  F,,  chap.  ii.  §§  i,  3). 

The  first  use  of  the  lead,  chalk,  or  silver  point, 
of  the  pen,  and  of  the  brush  is,  therefore,  to  draw 


XVIII  Drawing  307 

lines  ;  and  especially  the  outline  or  contour  of 
masses,  to  be  ultimately  shaded.  And  though 
the  student  is  permitted  to  block  out  his  forms, 
strike  in  his  curves  with  repeated  lines,  retouch, 
and  finally  to  fix  the  accurate  contour  with  pen 
or  brush-point,  rubbing  away  the  tentative  pre- 
liminary of  lead-pencil  with  bread  or  indiarubber, 
yet  the  aim  of  the  draughtsman  is  to  strike  the 
right  line  at  once.  "  Of  these  three  tasks,  outline, 
colour,  and  shade,  outline,  in  perfection,  is  the 
most  difficult ;  but  students  must  begin  with  that 
task,  and  are  masters  when  they  can  see  to  the 
end  of  it,  though  they  never  reach  it "  (Z.  F.,  chap, 
ii.  §  4). 

146.  Transparency  and  Value. — The  second 
use  of  these  instruments  is  to  shade,  and  here  Mr. 
Ruskin's  teaching  differs  widely  from  that  usually 
given,  and  his  more  recent  teaching  differs  con- 
siderably from  his  earlier.  The  beautiful  qualities 
obtained  by  cross  hatching  and  stippling,  produc- 
ing a  surface  in  itself  decorative  and  interesting 
without  reference  to  imitation  of  Nature,  have  led 
drawing- masters  of  all  ranks  to  require  the  student 
to  produce  this  quality  at  all  hazards.  Not  only 
is  the  hatched  surface  decoratively  beautiful,  but 
it  is  truly  suggestive  of  transparency,  and  trans- 
parency is  usually  a  quality  of  shade.  Therefore 
the  point  is  used  in  preference  to  the  stump  or 
the  brush,  both  in  common  practice  and  in  The 
Elements  of  Draiving,  to  get  a  reticulated  tex- 
ture with  transparency  and  "  quality  "  beautiful  in 
themselves. 

To  this  method   there  are  several   objections, 


3o8  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

mentioned  in  many  places  in  our  author's  Oxford 
teaching.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  laborious,  and 
"  uncontributive  toil  is  one  of  the  forms  of  ruin  " 
{Academy  Notes,  1859)  ;  it  has  no  virtue  in  itself; 
if,  of  two  methods,  one  can  produce  a  good  result 
more  easily  than  the  other,  that  one  is  right  and  the 
other  wrong.  The  three  months'  stippling  spent 
on  a  drawing  from  the  antique  is  labour  thrown 
away,  and  worse  than  thrown  away,  for  it  deadens 
the  perceptions  of  the  student  even  though  it 
practises  his  hand.  Better  hand-practice  is  given 
by  accurate  outlining,  and  the  power  of  artistic 
observation  is  more  rapidly  developed  by  making 
a  drawing  every  day  than  by  making  only  one  in 
three  months. 

In  the  next  place,  it  fixes  the  student's  atten- 
tion on  the  execution  and  "  quality  "  of  his  work, 
rather  than  upon  its  imitative  truth.  If  Drawing 
were  Engraving  or  Sculpture,  in  which  decorative 
effect  is  primary,  this  might  be  allowed  ;  but  the 
End  of  Drawing  is  representation,  and  this  can 
be  attained  only  by  perception  of  values.  But 
these  stippled  drawings  ignore  values.  They  make 
one  side  of  a  figure  black  and  the  other  white — 
regardless  of  the  true  tenderness  of  tone  of  flesh 
as  compared  with  other  objects  in  the  field  of 
vision  (Z.  /^,  chap.  x.  §  3  ;  L.  A.,  %  164).  This 
was  Mr.  Ruskin's  doctrine  for  years  before  the 
present  Slade  Professor  at  London  began  to  re- 
volutionise the  practice  of  drawing- schools,  and 
long  before  the  recent  attempts  at  open-air  flesh- 
painting  taught  the  public  that  a  figure  need  not 
be  half  white  and  half  black. 


XVIII  Drawing  309 

In  the  third  place,  such  transparent  shading  is 
very  difficult  to  produce  in  real  beauty — as  it  is 
done  by  great  masters  ;  and  as  a  matter  of  fact  the 
great  masters,  when  they  draw  figures,  do  not 
always  attempt  it.  The  shading  in  Raphael's 
sketches  is  done  with  parallel  lines,  producing 
a  light  and  even  tint,  although  Michelangelo  at 
times  works  out  his  tones  in  highly  finished  trans- 
parency, far  beyond  the  power  of  the  student, 
"  It  requires  the  most  careful  and  patient  teaching 
to  develop  this  faculty  (of  observing  gradations), 
and  it  can  only  be  developed  at  all  by  rapid  and 
various  practice  from  natural  objects,  during  which 
the  attention  of  the  student  must  be  directed  only 
to  the  facts  of  the  shadows  themselves,  and  not  at 
all  arrested  on  methods  of  producing  them.  He 
may  even  be  allowed  to  produce  them  as  he  likes, 
or  as  he  can  ;  the  thing  required  of  him  being 
only  that  the  shade  be  of  the  right  darkness,  of 
the  right  shape,  and  in  the  right  relation  to  other 
shades  round  it,  and  not  at  all  that  it  shall  be 
prettily  cross-hatched  or  deceptively  transparent. 
But  at  present  the  only  virtues  required  in  shadow 
are  that  it  shall  be  pretty  in  texture  and  pictur- 
esquely effective ;  and  it  is  not  thought  of  the 
smallest  consequence  that  it  should  be  in  the  right 
place,  or  of  the  right  depth.  And  the  consequence 
is  that  the  student  remains,  when  he  becomes 
a  painter,  a  mere  manufacturer  of  conventional 
shadows  of  agreeable  texture,  and  to  the  end  of 
his  life  incapable  of  perceiving  the  conditions  of 
the  simplest  natural  passage  of  chiaroscuro"  {L.  F., 
Preface). 


3 1  o  Ari-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

147.  Pen  and  Wash. — The  practice  of  Mr. 
Ruskin's  teaching  is  therefore  to  ask  for  shading 
in  monochrome — sepia  or  lamp-black — with  the 
brush,  laid  upon  a  carefully  prepared  outline.  In 
this  work  the  relations  of  tone  and  gradations  are 
the  especial  qualities  insisted  upon,  but  transpar- 
ency is  not  necessarily  neglected.  A  water-colour 
tint  is  transparent  when  it  is  laid-in  wet,  and  not 
retouched.  After  the  student  has  prepared  his 
careful  and  accurate  pen  outline,  he  is  to  match 
the  general  value  of  each  whole  mass  with  a  single 
tint,  and  lay  it  on  ;  then,  with  a  nearly  dry  brush, 
to  take  out  the  lights,  and  reinforce  the  darks, 
if  necessary,  with  added  colour  {L.  F.,  chap.  vi.  § 
34).  The  result  of  this  method  is  an  exquisitely 
gradated  and  necessarily  delicate  and  transparent 
shading.  To  get  the  proper  depth  of  tint  the 
same  plan  of  "  matching  "  may  be  used  as  that  re- 
commended for  colour  ;  namely,  to  touch  the  edge 
of  a  separate  slip  of  paper  and  hold  it  up  between 
the  eye  and  the  object,  and  when  the  tones  are 
identical,  to  lay  the  tint  so  determined  upon  the 
drawing. 

This  is  only  the  water-colour  way  of  that  match- 
ing with  the  palette  knife,  which  is  now  taught  to 
students  of  oil-painting  in  England  and  France  ; 
but  Ruskin  began  the  practice  fifty  years  ago  with 
his  cyanometer,  or  gradated  slip  of  blue  paper, 
to  measure  the  depth  of  blue  in  the  sky  ;  and 
taught  it  forty  years  ago  as  the  proper  method  of 
learning  to  colour.  And  his  doctrine,  that  the 
student  should  fix  for  every  mass  its  general 
value  of  tone,  is  the  same  with  Carolus  Duran's 


xviii  Drawing  311 

demi-teint  general,  to  be  reinforced  with  emphases 
of  Hght  and  dark. 

This  system  of  pen  and  wash  was  immediately- 
adopted  from  Turner,  but  it  was  formerly  a  com- 
mon practice,  and  fell  into  disuse  chiefly,  I  believe, 
as  a  result  of  the  Romanticist  love  of  picturesque 
rather  than  beauty  or  sublimity,  and  of  sparkle 
and  brilliancy  rather  than  luminosity  and  breadth. 
The  Hardingesque  lead-pencil  is  the  material  for 
picturesque  sketching,  but  the  pen  and  wash  for 
true  chiaroscuro  drawing,  and  as  such  has  always 
been  used  by  great  masters  from  the  earliest  times. 
Mr.  Ruskin  is  not  a  bigot  of  the  brush,  and  does 
not  require  that  all  pen -shading,  hatching,  and 
stippling,  and  pencil-sketching  are  to  be  given  up  ; 
his  teaching,  it  must  be  remembered,  is  for  students, 
and  for  serious  students  working  in  the  University 
drawing  classes.  Out-of-doors  sketching  is  quite 
another  thing  ;  there,  one  must  make  one's  notes 
as  they  can  be  most  conveniently  made,  frankly  as 
memoranda.  Artists'  studies  are,  again,  left  un- 
touched by  this  teaching  ;  every  artist  finds  out 
his  own  methods,  and  works  in  his  own  way.  But 
to  express  all  that  can  be  expressed,  in  the  temper 
of  serious  Art,  with  high  ideals  and  aims,  the  pen 
and  wash  is  the  right  and  proper  method. 

In  applying  this  method  to  landscape  it  is 
hardly  necessary  to  say  that  the  taking  out  of 
lights  is  not  an  inseparable  part  of  the  principle  ; 
a  sky,  of  course,  can  be  gradated  in  one  wash 
in  the  usual  manner,  and  elaborate  directions 
are  given  for  gradated  washes  in  L.  F.,  chap.  x. 
Still-life  and  all  kinds  of  indoor  and  foreground 


312  Art- Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

subjects  offer  no  difficulties  in  this  manner  ;  but 
figures,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  study  from  the 
nude,  are  not  suited  to  pen  and  wash.  The  aim 
of  the  student  in  figure-drawing  is  to  learn  the 
outline  and  modelling,  not  chiaroscuro  ;  therefore 
the  Point  is  the  proper  instrument.  But  when 
figures  are  seen  in  lateral  light,  or  studied  as 
problems  of  tone,  then  pen  and  wash  is  the  easiest 
and  most  rapid,  as  well  as  the  most  certain  and 
accurate  method  ;  and  it  should  be  more  widely 
known  as  Mr.  Ruskin's  modern  teaching,  opposed 
to  the  superseded  pen-stippling  of  his  Elements  of 
Drawing. 

148.  The  Three  Kinds  of  Chiaroscuro. — With 
the  pen  and  wash,  or  mezzotint  method,  three 
kinds  of  light  and  shade  can  be  expressed,  the 
first  two  of  which  are  called  by  Mr.  Ruskin 
Formal  and  Aerial  chiaroscuro.  To  the  third  he 
gives  no  name,  but  plainly  indicates  that  he  means 
the  expression  of  values^  as  they  are  now  called 
(but  not  by  Mr.  Ruskin) ;  that  is,  the  relations  of 
tone  between  masses  not  only  differently  lighted 
but  differently  coloured,  which  we  may  call  Tonal 
chiaroscuro. 

The  first  kind  has  nothing  to  do  with  values 
or  tone  ;  it  considers  its  subject  as  colourless — as 
a  plaster  cast ;  and  makes  all  lights  equally  bright, 
whatever  their  colour  in  Nature,  "  The  method 
of  study  which  refuses  local  colour,  partly  by 
the  apparent  dignity  and  science  of  it,  and  partly 
by  the  feverish  brilliancy  of  effect  induced  in 
Engraving  by  leaving  all  the  lights  white,  be- 
came the  preferred  method  of  the  schools  of  the 


XVIII  Drawing  313 

Renaissance,  headed  by  Leonardo ;  and  it  was 
both  familiarised  and  perpetuated  by  the  engrav- 
ings of  Diirer  and  Marcantonio.  It  has  been 
extremely  mischievous  in  this  supremacy.  .  .  . 
Every  student  ought,  however,  to  understand, 
and  sometimes  to  use,  the  method  "  (Z.  /^,  chap. 

X.  §  34). 

The  use  of  the  method  is  to  detach  form  from 
colour  in  study.  We  saw  that  natural  colour,  so 
far  from  bringing  out  the  form,  obscures  it  and 
complicates  it.  Therefore,  to  study  form  it  is 
necessary  to  disentangle  it  from  colour,  and  from 
the  values  of  local  colours,  which  break  it  up  and 
disguise  it.  For  example,  a  flower  is  exquisite  in 
colour  and  exquisite  in  form,  but  both  cannot  be 
simultaneously  studied,  if  the  study  is  to  be  more 
than  superficial.  By  eliminating  colour  the  form 
can  be  determined  ;  in  pen  and  wash,  according 
to  the  Leonardesque  or  Formal  chiaroscuro  (the 
Geranium  in  L.  F.  and  L.  A.,%  163).  The  abuse 
of  the  method  is  when  it  is  carried  into  painting. 
What  is  right  in  a  drawing  is  wrong  in  a  painting, 
because  the  technical  conditions  are  different,  and 
the  conception  of  the  Art  is  different.  The  "  mis- 
chief" done  by  the  "supremacy"  of  Formal  chiar- 
oscuro is  the  denial  of  values,  and  habituation  of 
the  public  to  the  entirely  artificial  light  and  shade 
of  the  Academical  School. 

The  method  of  it  is  simply  to  keep  the  lights 
gradated  and  the  darks  tender  and  flat.  It  does 
not  imply  great  depth  of  darkness,  but  equal 
brilliance  of  all  lights,  whatever  their  own  values 
in  Nature  (Z.  A.,  §§  167,  168). 


314  Arl-  Teaching  of  Rttskin  chap. 

The  second  kind  is  Aerial  chiaroscuro,  which 
is  to  the  first  as  landscape  is  to  indoor-painting  ; 
it  is  based  on  the  same  principle,  only  it  takes 
account  of  cross  lights,  and  the  broad  reflections 
of  outdoor  effect  from  clouds  and  the  sky,  and 
of  aerial  perspective  ;  while  Formal  chiaroscuro 
assumed  the  light  to  be  coming  from  a  narrow 
window  or  the  sun.  This  still  takes  no  special 
account  of  values  as  such,  but  makes  the  most 
distinctly  lighted  parts  of  the  scene  white,  and 
the  strongest  shadows  as  dark  as  consistent  with 
transparency.  "In  order  to  produce  a  mental 
impression  of  the  facts,  two  distinct  methods  may 
be  followed  :  The  first,  to  shade  downwards  from 
the  lights,  making  everything  darker  in  due  pro- 
portion, until,  the  scale  of  our  power  being  ended, 
the  mass  of  the  picture  is  lost  in  shade.  The 
second,  to  assume  the  points  of  extreme  darkness 
for  a  basis,  and  to  light  everything  above  these  in 
due  proportion,  till  the  mass  of  the  picture  is  lost 
in  light"  (Z.  A.,  §  169).  The  first  method  is 
essentially  the  chiaroscurist  method  ;  the  second 
is  that  adopted  by  the  best  colourists  in  preparing 
for  a  coloured  picture.  The  relative  virtues  of 
the  systems  of  light  and  shade  used  by  different 
artists — Turner,  Veronese,  and  Rembrandt — are 
discussed  in  Modern  Painters,  vol.  iv.  chap,  iii., 
which  leads  to  the  same  conclusion,  namely,  that 
a  high  key  of  tone  is  better  for  colour  than  a  low 
key,  though  it  is  at  the  choice  of  the  artist  which 
he  adopts.  The  third  method  is  that  in  which 
the  values  of  local  colour  are  admitted  as  integral 
part  of  the  chiaroscuro  scheme.     "In  general,  and 


XVIII  Drawing  3 1 5 

more  especially  in  the  practice  which  is  to  guide 
you  to  colour,  it  is  better  to  regard  the  local 
colour  as  part  of  the  general  light  and  dark  to  be 
imitated  ;  and  to  consider  all  Nature  merely  as  a 
mosaic  of  different  colours,  to  be  imitated  one  by 
one  in  simplicity"  (Z.  A.,  §  171).  This  applies 
to  landscape  and  figure,  to  still -life  and  studies 
of  detached  objects  without  a  background — to  all 
equally  ;  they  may  be  treated  in  such  a  way  as  to 
secure  their  form  and  modelling,  or  they  may  be 
treated  so  as  to  secure  their  values.  And  the  last 
way  is  that  to  which  the  study  of  drawing  is  to 
lead  in  the  end,  before  it  glides  into  painting. 
The  best  manner  of  drawing  is  therefore  firm  out- 
line, blocked  out  with  pencil  and  fixed  with  pen  ; 
single  tints  of  monochrome  water-colour,  gradated 
while  wet,  not  retouched  ;  each  mass  being  finished 
separately  with  especial  attention  to  its  general 
value. 

149.  The  Scfiools  of  Line. — We  have  seen  in 
several  instances  that  it  is  at  the  choice  of  the 
artist  to  represent  those  truths  of  Nature  which 
can  be  told  in  lines,  or  those  which  can  be  told 
in  chiaroscuro  ;  between  different  kinds  of  line- 
drawing  there  is  a  further  selection  to  be  made, 
and  between  different  kinds  of  light  and  shade. 
Consequently  it  is  not  reasonable  to  assume  that 
all  artists  work  with  the  same  intention,  and 
according  to  the  same  principles  ;  on  the  contrary, 
every  artist  has  his  own  separate  ideals,  or  com- 
bination of  ideals,  of  which  the  variety  is  infinite  ; 
and  his  work  must  be  judged  by  the  standard  he 
chooses,  not  by  the   critic's  ideals  of  excellence. 


3i6  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

The  artist  may  be  judged  by  the  critic's  ideal,  but 
his  work  must  be  judged  by  his  own. 

Painters  may  be  considered  under  three  main 
divisions  :  They  are  chiefly  interested  in  contour 
and  curvature,  or  they  are  chiefly  interested  in 
effect  of  light  in  mass  and  modelling,  or  they  are 
chiefly  interested  in  colour.  They  are  greater 
when  they  combine  more  excellences,  and  have 
a  wider  range ;  but  most  men  have  a  definite 
preference  for  Line,  Light,  or  Colour.  Any 
of  these  may  be  ideally  treated  or  realistically, 
delicately  or  coarsely,  with  more  or  less  of  other 
subsidiary  aims  and  attempts ;  but  the  three 
schools  are  distinct  as  schools,  however  difficult 
it  may  be  to  assign  the  rank  of  a  given  painter 
in  them. 

The  earliest  Art  is  usually  linear,  characteristic 
of  savage  life  and  of  feverish  energy  of  imagina- 
tion. The  next  step  is  to  fill  the  contours  of 
natural  forms  with  light  and  shade,  or  with  colour. 
The  third  step  is  to  introduce  gradation,  so  that 
the  flat  space  of  shade  or  colour  becomes  a  gra- 
dated and  modelled  mass,  expressive  of  surface 
and  roundness.  And  the  last  stage,  the  final  reach 
of  Art,  unites  the  modelled  light  and  shade  to  the 
gradated  colour.  In  perfect  development  of  this 
principle  of  progress  we  have — (i)  the  early  Art 
of  line,  barbaric  and  abstract.  In  the  second  stage 
(2)  Greek  vase-painting,  the  etched  outline  com- 
bined with  colour  that  is  hardly  so  much  colour 
as  tone,  expressive  of  degrees  of  light ;  and  (3) 
Gothic  glass  and  decorative  painting,  in  which 
the  strongly-marked  outline  is  filled  with  flat,  or 


XVIII  Drawing  317 

nearly  flat,  colour,  not  attempting  the  expression 
of  surface.  In  the  third  stage  (4)  the  schools 
represented  by  Leonardo,  who  aim  at  chiaroscuro, 
roundness,  sculpturesque  modelling,  mass  with 
light;  and  (5)  Giorgione  and  his  schools,  the 
colourists  who,  on  the  one  hand,  are  not  content 
with  flat  spaces  of  ideal  hues  ;  but,  on  the  other, 
fear  to  contaminate  their  colour  with  actual  shade. 
And  the  union  of  (4)  and  (5)  produces  (6),  thfe 
completed  Venetian  School,  in  which  chiaroscuro 
and  colour  are  united  (Z.  A.,  §§  137-139).  Each 
of  these  has  its  virtues  and  its  vices  ;  not  by  fol- 
lowing any  one  style  can  a  student  become  a 
master,  but  by  finding  out  his  own  preferences  and 
abilities  and  developing  them. 

The  Schools  of  Line  (i),  (2),  and  (3)  are  alike  in 
this,  that  they  "  lean  on  a  firm  and  determined 
outline,"  as  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  advised  his  pupils 
to  do.  The  Ideal  Art  of  Florence  was  of  this 
class,  and  dwells  on  the  musical  or  mathematical 
art  of  line-composition  as  its  chief  element.  For 
a  public  accustomed  to  chiaroscuro  and  Realism 
they  have  little  interest, — these  primitive  masters 
and  the  contemporaries  of  Botticelli, — because  what 
they  give  is  not  what  is  commonly  wanted  nowa- 
days, but  what  they  give  is  a  more  purely  artistic 
ideal  than  that  which  we  find  popular.  Men  like 
some  of  our  so-called  decorators,  who  find  them- 
selves revolting  from  the  hybrid  ideals  and  vacil- 
lating aims  of  their  contemporaries  to  a  sympathy 
with  the  clear  perceptions  and  definite  intentions 
of  the  Schools  of  Line,  are  not  therefore  imitators 
of     the     quattrocentisti     and     Greek      bas  -  relief 


3 1 8  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

sculptors,  nor  need  they  be  classed  with  derivative 
mannerists.  Realism  has  by  no  means  a  monopoly 
of  right  principles  ;  it  is  just  as  right  to  lean  on 
your  outline,  and  emphasise  your  design,  if  you 
honestly  feel  interested  in  it. 

150.  The  Schools  of  Chiaroscuro.  —  In  the 
next  stage,  that  of  modelled  masses  (4)  is  the 
offspring  of  (2),  and  (5)  of  (3).  The  Chiaroscurist 
School  is  the  child  of  the  Greeks,  inheriting  the 
desire  for  light ;  and  all  effects  of  light,  shown  in 
so  much  modern  work,  whether  sunshine  or  candle- 
glimmer,  in  landscape  or  interiors — all  these  are 
developments  of  this  school,  and  can  be  traced 
back  through  the  Dutch  to  the  influence  of  the 
Bolognese  and  Neapolitans  and  Leonardo,  who 
revived,  if  he  did  not  inherit,  the  skiagraphia  of 
Apollodorus.  Whenever  the  effect  of  light  over- 
rides colour — whenever  colour,  and  all  the  possi- 
bilities of  colour,  are  sacrificed  in  any  way  to  the 
attempt  to  represent  lighting — then  the  work 
belongs  to  the  Schools  of  Chiaroscuro. 

Of  this  there  are  three  different  cases,  which 
we  may  call  candle-light,  studio- light,  and  sun- 
light. By  candle-light,  or  any  artificial  light, 
colours  are  altered  or  destroyed  more  or  less ; 
and  though  it  is  quite  possible  to  paint  such  a 
subject  in  the  colourist  manner,  the  tendency  of 
artists  who  paint  candle-light  is  to  look  for  the 
shine,  not  the  colour,  of  the  flame,  and  the  gloom, 
not  the  colour,  of  the  shade. 

The  old-fashioned  studio  effect,  shutting  off 
reflection  and  diminishing  the  quantity  of  light  in 
the  shades,  diminishes  the  colour  in  them,  so  that 


XVIII  Drawing  319 

painters  of  indoor  subjects, — cottage  interiors  and 
so  on — though  they  may  be  colourists,  are  tempted 
to  aim  for  chiaroscuro,  and  contrast  the  high 
lights  with  breadth  of  brown  or  black  gloom.  In 
a  northern  climate  and  in  a  poorly- lighted  room 
there  is  usually  too  little  light  to  show  the  colour 
of  the  shades  ;  when  sunlight  is  in  the  air  the 
shades  start  into  fulness  of  colour. 

But  when  sunlight  falls  on  the  subject  the 
contrast  between  the  lights  and  darks  is  so  great 
that,  in  any  attempt  to  render  it,  colour  again 
gives  way  to  chiaroscuro.  Very  wonderful  work 
has  been  done  by  way  of  suggesting  sunlight- 
effect,  both  in  landscape  and  figure-painting,  and 
it  has  been  combined  by  some  artists  with  a  great 
sense  of  colour.  But,  after  all,  these  attempts  are 
at  best  suggestive  ;  the  actual  tone  of  sunlight  is 
quite  impossible  to  render  in  Art  {Academy  Notes, 
1859;  L.  F.,  Aph.  12,  13),  and  as  the  studio- 
effect  lends  itself  to  vulgar  imitation,  so  the  sun- 
light-effect tempts  the  painter  to  tours-de-force, 
which,  however  successful,  detract  from  other  aims 
and  excellences  of  Art,  and  call  the  spectator's 
attention  to  the  cleverness  of  the  painter  rather 
than  the  nobility  of  his  subject. 

The  Chiaroscuro  School,  then,  seeks  light  in 
contrast  with  shade.  From  the  first  simple  efforts 
at  approximate  value — for  such  are  the  vase- 
paintings — the  chiaroscurists  proceed  to  elaborate 
insistence  upon  surface- modelling,  so  that  their 
art  is  akin  to  Sculpture  ;  it  is  not  Painting,  with 
all  the  advantage  of  its  technical  conditions  in  its 
distinctive  conception.     "The  way   by  light  and 


3 2 o  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

shade  is  taken  by  men  of  the  highest  powers  of 
thought,  and  most  earnest  desire  for  truth  ;  they 
long  for  h'ght,  and  for  knowledge  of  all  that  light 
can  show.  But,"  seeking  for  light,  they  perceive 
also  darkness  ;  seeking  for  truth  and  substance, 
they  find  vanity.  They  look  for  form  in  the 
earth,  for  dawn  in  the  sky  ;  and,  seeking  these, 
they  find  formlessness  in  the  earth,  and  night  in 
the  sky"  (Z.  A.,%  148).  And  so  the  school 
develops  into  Rembrandtism,  and  the  oppressive 
gloom  from  which  healthy  English  Art  has  twice 
successfully  revolted — once  in  the  last 'century 
under  the  lead  of  Hogarth,  and  again  in  this 
century  under  the  lead  of  the  Pre-Raphaelites. 

To  this  school,  not  to  the  lower  classes  of  it, 
the  intellectual  artist  is  sure  to  belong  ;  the  artist 
whose  reasoning  powers  check  and  control  that 
instinctive  faculty  and  emotional  impulsive  cordi- 
ality which  is  the  other  element  of  the  artistic 
nature.  And,  accepting  the  conditions  of  his 
work,  he  may  become  one  of  the  greatest,  because 
a  perfect  balance  between  the  two  sides  of  genius 
is  impossible,  or  hardly  to  be  hoped  for.  But  he 
will  not  advance  his  Art  of  Painting,  as  Painting, 
to  its  highest  pitch  ;  he  will  be  a  great  draughts- 
man, and  seen  at  his  best  in  his  drawings  and 
engravings  after  his  work. 

As  himself  belonging  to  this  school,  Mr. 
Ruskin  has  illustrated  its  greatness  with  affec- 
tion, and  its  degradation  with  bitterness.  The 
painting  of  the  inferior  Dutchmen  and  their  imi- 
tators in  England  and  France,  whose  chief  artistic 
virtue  is  the  dexterous  touching  of  solid  lights  on 


Drawino-  -i  2 1 


^> 


transparent  shades,  the  tedious  or  tricky  gloom  of 
misdirected  engraving  and  etching,  and  the  night- 
mare vulgarity  of  the  black  woodcut — all  these 
he  would  wave  aside,  and  bid  them,  as  they  have 
"  come  like  shadows,  so  depart." 


CHAPTER    XIX 

PAINTING 

151.  The  Schools  of  Colour. — The  nature  and 
essence  of  Painting,  as  distinguished  from  any 
other  art,  is  that  it  gives  Colour.  The  chiar- 
oscurist,  whether  he  uses  oil-paint  or  water-colour 
or  charcoal  or  mezzotint,  thinks  first  of  his  lights 
and  shades,  and  neglects  his  colour  more  or  less  ; 
and  if  he  uses  colour  at  all,  he  defies  his  technical 
conditions  in  making  chiaroscuro  his  principal 
object.  So  that  the  true  painters  are  the  colour- 
ists :  "  On  this  issue  hangs  the  nobleness  of 
Painting  as  an  Art  altogether,  for  it  is  distinctively 
the  Art  of  colouring,  not  of  shaping  or  relating. 
Sculptors  and  poets  can  do  these  ;  the  painter's 
own  work  is  colour"  {M.  P.,  vol.  v.  p.  321). 

The  most  perfect  development  of  the  colour- 
faculty  has  been  among  the  Venetians,  and  that 
not  only  in  their  sixteenth -century  painting,  but 
throughout  their  history.  Their  earliest  architect- 
ure shows  it  already,  and  Mr.  Ruskin  suggests  that 
it  may  have  been  derived  and  inherited  from 
the  East  with  the  mosaics  from  Constantinople 
and  the  architecture  of  the  Saracens  {S.  V.,  vol.  ii. 


CHAP.   XIX 


Painting  323 


chap.  iv.  §  28).  Accordingly  the  most  perfect 
development  of  Painting,  as  the  colour- art,  has 
been  among  the  Venetians,  Giorgione  completing 
the  power  of  the  pure  Colourist  School,  without 
chiaroscuro ;  and  Titian,  Veronese,  and  Tintoret 
uniting  all  the  various  elements  of  Art  into  one 
whole  under  the  dominion  of  colour  {L.  A.,  §  139). 

Because  of  the  didactic  force  of  Raphael  and 
Michelangelo,  and  the  sentimental  interest  of  the 
post -Renaissance  Schools  of  chiaroscuro,  this 
Colourist  School  had  fallen  into  some  neglect 
and  contempt  before  Mr.  Ruskin  illustrated  it  in 
Modern  Painters  and  Stones  of  Venice.  Artists 
like  Reynolds  and  others  went  to  Venice  and  tried 
to  rival  the  results  of  Titian  ;  but  the  Art-philo- 
sophers and  critics  placed  the  school  in  a  very 
inferior  position,  from  which  our  author  helped  to 
rescue  it  by  showing  the  moral  dignity  of  Colour 
and  its  artistic  importance. 

The  moral  dignity  of  Colour  was  denied  by 
the  sentimentalists  and  philosophers  of  half  a 
century  ago,  who  placed  the  excellence  of  Art  on 
its  intellectual  side,  and  were  adherents  of  chiar- 
oscuro. The  High  Art  School  was  anti-colourist, 
and  though  our  author  is  not  without  his  leanings 
to  Idealism  and  to  light  and  shade,  he  saw  that 
there  was  another  side  to  the  question  {M.  P.,  vol. 
iii.  p.  32).  He  found  that  early  Christian  Art, 
the  expression  of  piety  and  asceticism,  as  in  the 
case  of  Angelico,  was  a  colourist  Art,  and  that  it 
lost  its  great  colour-faculty  in  proportion  as  it 
went  down  the  tide  of  decadence  to  infidelity  and 
immorality.     The  pleasure  of  the  eye  in  colour  is 


324  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

not  "  sensual "  any  more  than  that  of  the  ear  in 
music  ;  the  painting  of  nudity  is  justified  and 
chastened  by  colour,  and  sensual  only  when 
treated  in  the  chiaroscuro  spirit.  Religion  uses 
colour  to  symbolise  its  holiest  mysteries  and  en- 
force its  precepts.  Nature  always  colours  innocent 
and  kindly  creatures,  while  the  venomous  animal  and 
inhospitable  region  are  left,  in  comparison,  without 
colour  (see  M.  P.,  vol.  ii.  p.  120,  etc.  ;  vol.  iii.  p. 
257;  vol.  iv.  pp.  50-55;  and  especially  vol.  v. 
pp.  320-326  ;  and  5.  K,  vol.  iii.  chap.  iv.  §  27). 
There  is  voluptuous  colour  and  chaste  colour, 
there  is  intemperate  colour  and  refined  ;  and  the 
moral  dignity  of  the  colourists,  as  a  body  of  indi- 
viduals, is  at  least  as  great  as  that  of  other  schools — 
in  some  instances  it  rises  far  higher. 

The  artistic  importance  of  colour  —  not  to 
speak  of  the  rank  of  painting  among  the  Arts — 
was  equally  underrated.  In  his  first  volume  Mr. 
Ruskin  pointed  out  the  Relativity  of  Colour,  and 
considered  that,  as  its  truths  were  difficult  to 
attain,  its  place  was  comparatively  unimportant ; 
but  that  was  at  a  period  when  he  was  still  under 
the  influence  of  academicism.  Later  on  {M.  P., 
vol.  iii.  chap,  xii.)  he  indicated  an  adherence  to 
the  Scotch  school  of  metaphysics,  which  believed 
in  a  common -sense  realism  in  the  question  of 
sensation  and  perception  ;  as  a  consequence  of 
which  Colour  is  regarded  as  something  more  than 
subjective — as  an  actual  quality  of  real  external 
things.  This  transition  led  our  author — it  matters 
little  whether  by  sound  reasoning  or  not — to  a 
conclusion   sound    as   regards   the  theory  of  Art, 


XIX  Painting  325 

and  one  which  was  confirmed  in  his  study  of  the 
question  by  the  historical  method — namely,  that 
Colour  is  indispensable  to  the  perfect  representa- 
tion of  anything  ;  the  greatest  Colourists  are  the 
greatest  Realists,  and  -vice  versa. 

152.  The  Mutual  Dependence  of  Drawing  and 
Colouring. — "The  business  of  a  painter  is  to 
paint.  If  he  can  colour,  he  is  a  painter  though 
he  can  do  nothing  else  ;  if  he  cannot  colour,  he  is 
no  painter  though  he  may  do  everything  else. 
But  it  is,  in  fact,  impossible,  if  he  can  colour,  but 
that  he  should  be  able  to  do  more  ;  for  a  faithful 
study  of  colour  will  always  give  power  over  form, 
though  the  most  intense  study  of  form  will  give 
no  power  over  colour.  The  man  who  can  see  all 
the  grays  and  reds  and  purples  in  a  peach  will 
paint  the  peach  rightly  round  and  rightly  alto- 
gether ;  but  the  man  who  has  only  studied  its 
roundness  may  not  see  its  purples  and  grays,  and 
if  he  does  not  will  never  get  it  to  look  like  a 
peach  "  [M.  P.^  vol.  i v.  p.  55).  This  doctrine  was 
restated  in  the  "  Notes  on  the  Turners  at  Marl- 
borough House,  1857"  (reprinted  in  L.  F.,  chap, 
viii.),  in  terms  which  cannot  be  well  condensed. 

"  Perhaps  no  two  more  apparently  contradict- 
ory statements  could  be  made  in  brief  terms  than 
these — 

"(i)  The  perfections  of  drawing  and  colouring 
are  inconsistent  with  one  another. 

"(2)  The  perfections  of  drawing  and  colouring 
are  dependent  upon  one  another. 

"And  yet  both  of  these  statements  are  true. 
The    first   is   true,  because,  in  order  that   colour 


326  Art-  Teaching  of  R uskin  chap. 

may  be  right,  some  of  the  markings  necessary  to 
express  perfect  form  must  be  omitted  ;  and  also 
because,  in  order  that  it  may  be  right,  the  intellect 
of  the  artist  must  be  concentrated  on  that  first, 
and  must  in  some  slight  degree  fail  of  the  intense- 
ness  necessary  to  reach  relative  truth  of  form,  and 
viu  versa. 

"  The  truth  of  the  second  proposition  is  much 
more  commonly  disputed.  Observe,  it  is  a  two- 
fold statement.  The  perfections  of  drawing  and 
colouring  are  reciprocally  dependent  upon  each 
other,  so  that — 

"  Af  No  person  can  draw  perfectly  who  is  not 
a  colourist. 

"  B,  No  person  can  colour  perfectly  who  is  not 
a  draughtsman. 

"A,  No  person  can  draw  perfectly  who  is  not 
a  colourist.  For  the  effect  of  contour  in  all 
surfaces  is  influenced  in  Nature  by  gradations  of 
colour  as  much  as  by  gradations  of  shade  ;  so 
that  if  you  have  not  a  true  eye  for  colour  you  wil^;.^ 
judge  of  the  shades  wrongly.  Thus,  if  you  cannot 
see  the  changes  of  hue  in  red,  you  cannot  draw  a 
cheek  or  lip  rightly  ;  and  if  you  cannot  see  the 
changes  of  hue  in  green  or  blue,  you  cannot 
draw  a  wave.  All  studies  of  form  made  with  a 
despiteful  or  ignorant  neglect  of  colour  lead  to 
exaggerations  and  misstatements  of  the  form- 
markings  ;  that  is  to  say,  to  bad  drawing. 

"  B,  No  person  can  colour  perfectly  who  is  not 
a  draughtsman.  For  brilliancy  of  colour  depends, 
first  of  all,  on  gradation  ;  and  gradation,  in  its  sub- 
tleties, cannot  be  given  but  by  a  good  draughtsman. 


XIX  Painting  327 

Brilliancy  of  colour  depends  next  on  decision 
and  rapidity  in  laying  it  on  ;  and  no  person  can 
lay  it  on  decisively,  and  yet  so  as  to  fall  into,  or 
approximately  to  fall  into,  the  forms  required, 
without  being  a  thorough  draughtsman.  And  it  is 
always  necessary  that  it  should  fall  into  a  pre- 
determinate  form,  not  merely  that  it  may  represent 
the  intended  natural  objects,  but  that  it  may  itself 
take  the  shape,  as  a  patch  of  colour,  which  will  fit 
it  properly  to  the  other  patches  of  colour  round 
about  it.  If  it  touches  them  more  or  less  than  is 
right,  its  own  colour  and  theirs  will  both  be  spoiled. 
Hence  it  follows  that  all  very  great  colourists 
must  be  also  very  great  draughtsmen." 

It  follows  also  that  realistic  detail  is  at  once 
made  possible  and  justified  by  Colour.  To  em- 
ploy Colour  for  the  sake  of  realisation  is  the 
method  of  vulgar  deceptive  imitation  ;  but  to 
realise  for  the  sake  of  the  Colour,  to  refine  detail 
and  finish  so  as  to  give  full  scope  to  all  the  con- 
ditions of  the  material,  is  the  right  aim  of  the 
painter  {S.  V.,  vol.  iii.  chap.  iv.  §  27). 

153.  T/ie  Kinds  of  Colour. — These  conditions 
of  Colour,  in  painting  upon  an  opaque  surface 
especially,  fall  under  two  principal  headings, 
brilliant  Colour  and  subdued.  It  is  at  the  artist's 
choice  (as  far  as  anything  is  at  his  choice)  which 
kind  he  adopts  ;  for  the  relativity  of  colours,  the 
fact  that  their  absolute  hue  and  tone  cannot 
usually  be  isolated  and  determined  by  themselves 
{M.  P.,  vol.  i.  p.  69),  makes  it  more  important  to 
give  the  right  relation  and  harmony  of  all  the 
colours    in   the   picture   than    to  reproduce  some 


328  A  7't-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

rightly,  while  others,  owing  to  brightness  or  depth, 
are  wrong,  and  the  whole  therefore  inharmonious. 

Either  subdued  or  brilliant  Colour  may  be 
chosen,  and  may  be  good  or  bad  according  to  the 
colour-power  of  the  artist.  It  is  a  mistake  to 
suppose  that  all  subdued  Colour  is  necessarily 
good  ;  it  may  become  the  mere  symptom  of 
mental  decay  and  moral  collapse  ;  it  may  emanate 
from  a  frivolous  mind  or  a  sensual  nature.  On 
the  other  hand,  brilliant  Colour  may  become 
vulgar  and  gaudy,  but  it  is  not  necessarily  so.  If 
the  student  is  to  learn  anything  from  Mr.  Ruskin's 
Art- Teaching,  it  is  that  nobody  can  be  safe  by 
adopting  a  style  ;  there  is  no  salvation  in  any 
manner.  But  for  early  practice,  as  straight  lines 
and  simple  curves  are  set  before  a  beginner,  so 
brilliant  Colour  is  the  most  useful.  It  can  be 
made  noble  in  itself  by  right  treatment  and  har- 
mony, or  subdued  to  any  degree ;  while  the  right 
and  wrong  of  subdued  Colour  demand  a  trained 
eye  for  their  recognition,  and  are  only  possible  at 
a  more  advanced  stage  of  Art-power  (Z.  /^,  chap. 
vii. ;  and  see  5.   F.,  vol.  ii.  chap.  v.  §  30). 

The  absolute  brilliancy  of  many  of  Nature's 
colours  cannot  be  reached  in  Art  {M.  P.,  vol.  i.  pp. 
1 58-161),  and  consequently  the  tone  must  be 
lowered,  which  can  be  done  either  with  consistent 
gray,  as  if  the  picture  were  seen  in  a  dark  mirror, 
or  with  consistent  translation  of  the  high-toned 
colour  into  the  same  colour  taken  at  a  greater 
depth.  The  former  is  the  chiaroscurist,  the  latter 
the  colourist  method  {E.  D.,  Letter  iii.),  and 
especially    that  of   the    Venetians    according    to 


XIX  Painting  329 

Mr.  Ruskin.  As  the  whole  matter  of  lowering  the 
tone  and  subduing  the  colour  is  in  the  hands  of 
the  painter,  who  can  lower  any  parts  of  it  by  any 
scale  he  pleases,  and  in  so  doing  approximate 
either  to  abstract  chiaroscuro  or  abstract  colour, 
the  possibilities  are  infinite ;  and  as  it  is  an  arbi- 
trary and  conventional  process,  the  right  and 
wrong  of  it  cannot  be  determined  by  reference  to 
Nature,  but  only  by  technical  conditions.  If  it  be 
true  that  the  technical  conditions  of  Painting,  as 
Painting,  require  the  utmost  display  of  colour  for 
its  own  sake,  then  the  black-mirror  system — that 
of  lowering  tone  by  gray  or  black — is  contrary  to 
the  principles  of  the  Art ;  and  its  advantage,  as 
a  ready  way  of  obtaining  imitative  realism  which 
satisfies  present  requirements  of  the  contemporary 
public,  means  nothing  more  than  a  concession  to 
fashion.  The  Venetian  way  remains  the  right 
one  for  Painting,  as  such. 

More  than  that,  the  darkening  of  colour  by 
gray  shading  is  not,  as  it  is  usually  practised,  right 
colour.  To  tint  a  chiaroscuro  drawing  or  a  photo- 
graph is  not  to  produce  a  coloured  picture.  It 
merely  suggests  the  approximate  colour  of  the 
masses ;  but  it  does  not  give  the  gradation,  the 
play  of  varied  hues  and  blended  tints,  which  in- 
variably modify  and  beautify  the  surface  of  natural 
objects.  So  that  chiaroscurist's  colour  is  false, 
and  in  a  picture  which  aims  at  light  and  shade 
principally,  the  colour  is  better  omitted  than  falsi- 
fied ;  the  two  Arts  are  distinct,  and  ought  not  to 
be  confused  {M.  P.,  vol.  v.  p.  323). 

154.  Laws  of  Colour. — All  beautiful  colour  is 


dy 


Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin    *      chap. 


composed  by  mingling  many  hues  in  one  {M.  P., 
vol.  iv.  p.  iio),  as  in  Nature,  where  the  detail  is 
infinitely  varied  in  colour,  blending  together  into 
a  general  effect  which  is  most  beautiful  when  it  is 
most  difficult  to  analyse.  It  follows  in  this,  as  in 
other  qualities,  the  laws  of  Beauty  in  general,  of 
which  the  first  is  Infinity  and  incomprehensibility: 
"  No  colour  harmony  is  of  a  high  order  unless  it 
involves  indescribable  tints.  It  is  the  best  possible 
sign  of  a  colour  when  nobody  who  sees  it  knows 
what  to  call  it,  or  how  to  give  an  idea  of  it  to 
any  one  else.  Even  among  simple  hues,  the  most 
valuable  are  these  which  cannot  be  defined  ;  the 
most  precious  purples  will  look  brown  beside  pure 
purple,  and  purple  beside  pure  brown,  and  the 
most  precious  greens  will  be  called  blue  if  seen 
beside  pure  green,  and  green  if  seen  beside  pure 
blue"  {T.  P.,  App.  5). 

The  next  law  of  Beauty  is  Gradation.  "  All 
good  colour  is  gradated.  A  blush-rose  (or,  better 
still,  a  blush  itself)  is  the  type  of  rightness  in 
arrangement  of  pure  hue." 

Then  follows  Unity.  "  All  harmonies  of  colour 
depend  for  their  vitality  on  the  action  and  helpful 
co-operation  of  every  particle  of  colour  they  con- 
tain. The  final  particles  of  colour  necessary  to 
the  completeness  of  a  colour-harmony  are  always 
infinitely  small,"  that  is  to  say,  the  composition 
or  arrangement  of  colour  must  take  into  account 
the  smallest  masses  and  their  shapes  and  sizes, 
and  the  handling  of  colour  must  secure — whether 
at  once  or  by  retouching — the  right  amount  and 
depth  to  make  the  admixture  perfect.     The  mere 


XIX  Painting  331 

juxtaposition  of  complementaries  or  sequences  of 
colour  is  not  enough  to  secure  harmony ;  it  is  a 
thing  too  subtle  for  rules  ;  it  is  a  form  of  imagina- 
tive design. 

Repose  of  colour  is  obtained  in  harmonising  it, 
whether  brilliant  or  subdued  ;  and  purity,  that  is, 
not  crudity,  but  freedom  from  dirtiness  and  coarse- 
ness, however  indescribable  the  hue,  or  subdued,  is 
the  condition  of  all  colour  we  like  in  Nature — in 
the  sky,  in  the  lustre  of  flowers  and  birds'  plumage 
and  precious  stones,  and  in  the  painting  which  is 
freshly  and  skilfully  executed  as  opposed  to  that 
which  is  laboured  and  coarse  (Z.  F.,  chaps,  vii.  viii. ; 
Z.  A,  §  174)- 

Moderation,  the  last  of  the  laws  of  Beauty  as 
given  above  (§  56),  is  of  capital  importance. 
"  The  finer  the  eye  for  colour,  the  less  it  will 
require  to  gratify  it  intensely.  But  that  little 
must  be  supremely  good  and  pure,  as  the  finest 
notes  of  a  great  singer,  which  are  so  near  to  silence. 
And  a  great  colourist  will  make  even  the  absence 
of  colour  lovely,  as  the  fading  of  the  perfect  voice 
makes  silence  sacred"  {T.  P.,  App.  5).  "A  bad 
colourist  does  not  love  beautiful  colour  better  than 
the  best  colourist  does,  not  half  so  much.  But  he 
indulges  in  it  to  excess  ;  he  uses  it  in  large  masses, 
and  unsubdued  ;  and  then  it  is  a  law  of  Nature,  a 
law  as  universal  as  that  of  gravitation,  that  he 
shall  not  be  able  to  enjoy  it  so  much  as  if  he  had 
used  it  in  less  quantity.  His  eye  is  jaded  and 
satiated,  and  the  blue  and  red  have  life  in  them 
no  more.  He  tries  to  paint  them  bluer  and  redder 
in  vain  ;  all  the  blue  has  become  gray,  and  gets 


332  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  cha p 

grayer  the  more  he  adds  to  it ;  all  his  crimson 
has  become  brown,  and  gets  more  sere  and 
autumnal  the  more  he  deepens  it.  But  the  great 
painter  is  sternly  temperate  in  his  work  ;  he  loves 
the  vivid  colour  with  all  his  heart,  but  for  a  long 
time  he  does  not  allow  himself  anything  like  it, 
nothing  but  sober  browns  and  dull  grays,  and 
colours  that  have  no  conceivable  beauty  in  them  ; 
but  these  by  his  government  become  lovely,  and 
after  bringing  out  of  them  all  the  life  and  power 
they  possess,  and  enjoying  them  to  the  uttermost 
— cautiously,  and  as  the  crown  of  the  work,  and 
the  consummation  of  its  music,  he  permits  the 
momentary  crimson  and  azure,  and  the  whole 
canvas  is  in  a  flame  "  {S.  V.,  vol.  iii.  chap.  i.  §  7). 
It  is  this  treatment  of  Colour,  and  not  the  choice 
of  contrasts  and  chords  and  sequences,  that  makes 
a  colourist ;  and  these  are  the  Laws  of  Colour 
which  Mr.  Ruskin  would  have  the  student  bear  in 
mind,  although  he  has  analysed  in  various  places 
the  favourite  combinations  of  his  favourite  painters. 
Some  help  may  be  got  from  working  out  his 
spectrum  of  twelve  standard  tints  (L.  F.,  chap,  vii.) 
as  a  rough  practical  guide  to  the  general  theory  of 
complementary  colour  and  what  may  be  called 
the  Symmetry  of  Colour.  For  example,  consider- 
ing his  twelve  colours  arranged  in  a  circle  as  a 
clock,  and  calling  them,  for  convenience,  by  the 
numbers  of  the  hours  of  the  day,  then  any  sequence 
(I  and  II,  or  II  and  III)  will  make  a  pleasing 
combination,  but.  it  will  need,  to  bring  it  out,  the 
complement  of  this  combination  (I  and  II  will 
need  half-past  VII,  II  and  III  will  need  half-past 


XIX  Painting  333 

VIII,  and  so  on).  And  any  discord  (such  as  I 
and  III)  will  be  resolved  by  striking  the  comple- 
mentary of  the  combination  (in  this  case  VIII), 
The  miniaturist's  favourite  combination,  again, 
may  be  explained  as  the  equilateral  triangle  in- 
scribed in  the  circle  (IV,  VIII,  and  XII),  and  the 
schemes  of  colour  in  decorative  Art  can  be  similarly 
analysed.  But  all  this  helps  the  practical  colour- 
designer  very  little.  If  he  has  true  feeling  for 
colour,  he  will  colour  well ;  if  he  has  no  such 
feeling,  all  the  rules  in  the  world  will  teach  him 
nothing  of  real  importance. 

155.  The  Three  Divisions  of  Painting. — It  is 
usually  taught  that  the  painter  has  to  attend  to 
three  separate  elements,  to  be  attained  by  three 
separate  processes  in  his  practice — line,  light 
and  shade,  and  colour.  And  the  student  is  com- 
monly advised — that  is  to  say,  by  teachers  deriving 
their  doctrines  from  the  Academical  Schools — to 
sketch  his  subject  in  line  first,  and  then  to  shade 
it,  and  finally  to  colour  it.  The  result  of  this  is 
that  bastard  and  incomplete  system  of  colouring 
which  is  based  on  formal  chiaroscuro,  and  makes 
the  true  colourist  method  impossible.  The  only 
true  method  of  colouring  is  that  which  regards 
value,  that  is  to  say,  the  relative  loss  of  light  in 
any  mass  of  colour,  from  the  first ;  at  one  step 
combining  colour  and  tone,  treating  every  mass  as 
— not  first  tone  and  then  hue,  but  a  definite  and 
ascertainable  colour  value.  "All  objects  appear 
to  the  eye  simply  as  masses  of  colour  of  variable 
depth,  texture,  and  outline.  The  outline  of  any 
object  is  the  limit  of  its  mass,  as  relieved  against 


334  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

another  mass.  Take  a  crocus,  and  lay  it  on  a 
green  cloth.  You  will  see  it  detach  itself  as  a 
mere  space  of  yellow  from  the  green  behind  it,  as 
it  does  from  the  grass.  Hold  it  up  against  the 
window ;  you  will  see  it  detach  itself  as  a  dark 
space  against  the  white  or  blue  behind  it.  In 
either  case  its  outline  is  the  limit  of  the  space  of 
light  or  dark  colour  by  which  it  expresses  itself 
to  your  sight.  .  .  .  Usually  light  and  shade  are 
thought  of  as  separate  from  colour  ;  but  the  fact 
is  that  all  Nature  is  seen  as  a  mosaic  composed 
of  gradated  portions  of  different  colours,  dark  or 
light.  .  .  .  Every  light  is  a  shadow  compared  to 
higher  lights,  till  we  reach  the  brightness  of  the 
sun  ;  and  every  shadow  is  a  light  compared  to 
lower  shadows,  till  we  reach  the  darkness  of  night. 
.  .  .  Painters  who  have  no  eye  for  colour  have 
greatly  confused  and  falsified  the  practice  of  Art  by 
the  theory  that  shadow  is  an  absence  of  colour. 
Shadow  is,  on  the  contrary,  necessary  to  the  full 
presence  of  colour,  for  every  colour  is  a  diminished 
quantity  or  energy  of  light  .  .  .  and  every  colour 
in  painting  must  be  a  shadow  to  some  brighter 
colour,  and  a  light  to  some  darker  one — all  the 
while  being  a  positive  colour  itself.  And  the  great 
splendour  of  the  Venetian  School  arises  from  their 
having  seen  and  held  from  the  beginning  this  great 
fact,  that  shadow  is  as  much  colour  as  light,  often 
much  more.  In  Titian's  fullest  red  the  lights  are 
pale  rose  colour,  passing  into  white,  the  shadows 
warm  deep  crimson.  In  Veronese's  most  splendid 
orange  the  lights  are  pale,  the  shadows  crocus 
colour,  and  so  on.      In  Nature,  dark  sides,  if  seen 


XIX  Painting  335 

by   reflected    lights,  are    almost    always    fuller    or 
warmer   in    colour    than    the   lights"    {L.   A.,  §§ 

130-134)- 

Hence  there  are  three  divisions  of  painting — 
the  process  is  performed  in  three  movements : 
first,  outline  ;  then  colour ;  and  finally,  the  modi- 
fication of  the  colour  to  express  modelling  of  solid 
masses  {L.  F.,  chap.  ii.  §  i).  Of  the  outline  we 
have  already  heard  ;  the  next  two  movements,  to 
be  successfully  performed,  must  be  nearly  simul- 
taneous ;  so  that  Painting  practically  consists  in 
one  operation,  provided  the  "  firm  and  determined 
outline"  of  Reynolds  has  been  secured  or  under- 
stood. Colour  is  to  be  taken  into  account  from 
the  first,  and  its  depth,  as  well  as  its  hue,  assigned 
to  every  mass — the  modelling  of  which  is  to  be 
given,  whether  in  water-colour  or  oil,  while  the 
paint  is  still  wet  upon  the  picture.  And  this 
modelling  is  always,  in  the  school  of  colour,  not  a 
superadded  gray  or  brown,  but  the  strengthening  of 
the  colour  of  the  mass  as  a  whole — as  it  really  ap- 
pears in  Nature,  except  in  that  dull  northern  studio- 
light  in  which  too  many  of  our  painters  are  trained. 

156.  Execution.  —  From  this  it  follows  that 
there  is  only  one  right  method  of  execution  :  to 
determine  the  contours  and  to  fill  in  the  masses, 
at  once  of  their  right  depth  of  colour  and  proper 
gradations.  Tone  is  simply  the  abstraction  of  their 
depth,  and  with  sufficient  care  in  securing  values, 
ought  not  to  require  separate  study  and  special 
treatment.  Chiaroscuro  is  another  abstraction  of 
their  depth  and  gradation  ;  with  such  training  in 
the  various  methods  of  draughtsmanship  in  light 


336  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

and  shade,  the  artist's  perceptions  should  be  able 
to  grasp  all  the  problems  of  modelling  and  lighting 
as  part  of  the  concrete  whole  of  the  mass,  con- 
sidered as  colour-value,  rightly  limited  and  rightly 
modelled. 

Each  mass  ought  therefore  to  be  painted 
separately,  and  painted  at  once,  without  retouch- 
ing :  that  is  the  perfect  and  ideal  manner  of 
execution.  Superadded  labour  is  only  a  conces- 
sion to  incapacity,  but  such  incapacity  as  no 
painter  need  be  ashamed  to  confess.  The  ques- 
tion is  here,  as  it  was  in  Architecture,  not  what 
is  practicable  under  the  circumstances,  but  what 
is  the  absolutely  right  method  of  work  ;  the  laws 
of  technical  conditions.  In  painting  it  is  to 
"  know  what  you  have  to  do,  and  do  it." 

The  virtue  of  this  method  is,  first  of  all.  Fresh- 
ness— the  "  quality  "  of  luminous  colour,  whether 
in  water  or  in  oil,  when  it  is  laid  down  decisively 
and  not  meddled  with.  This  is  the  only  justifica- 
tion of  much  sloppy  sketching  and  shapeless 
daubing  ;  but  it  is  a  true  aim,  and  if  rightly  and 
legitimately  obtained,  in  combination  with  sound 
draughtsmanship,  it  affords  the  highest  results  in 
Art.  In  the  next  place,  the  habit  of  decision  is 
itself  a  great  moral  power,  and  (when  the  decision 
is  a  right  one)  implies  all  the  highest  of  human 
abilities — generalship,  statesmanship,  and  what- 
ever powers  of  mind — foresight,  judgment,  grasp 
of  circumstances,  rapidity  of  combinations — go 
to  make  a  man  greater  than  his  fellows.  This 
method  does  not  necessitate  a  "  summary  treat- 
ment"; many  of  the  most  elaborated  works  have 


XIX  Painting  337 

been  painted  piece  by  piece  with  decisive  rapidity, 
which  does  not  preclude  that  lightness  of  touch 
and  mystery  of  execution  about  which  the  student 
of  Ruskin  reads  so  much ;  on  the  contrary,  it 
makes  these  possible  {M.  P.,  vol.  iv.  chap.  iv. ; 
Academy  Notes,  1858,  pp.  24,  38).  Turner,  whose 
execution  is  so  minute  in  some  of  his  works  that 
the  finest  mechanical  handicrafts,  such  as  the 
polishing  of  optician's  lenses,  imply  less  delicacy 
of  handling  {T.  P.,  App.  4),  was  also  the  most 
rapid  of  painters  ;  and  this  rapidity  might  be 
paralleled  among  living  men  by  those  whose 
pictures  show  the  greatest  fulness  of  finish  and 
exquisiteness  of  detail.  "  An  artist's  nerve  and 
power  of  mind  are  lost  chiefly  in  deciding  what  to 
do,  and  effacing  what  he  has  done  ;  it  is  anxiety, 
not  labour,  that  fatigues  him  ;  and  vacillation,  not 
difficulty,  that  hinders  him.  And  if  the  student 
feels  doubt  respecting  his  own  decision  of  mind, 
and  questions  the  possibility  of  gaining  the  habit 
of  it,  let  him  be  assured  that  in  Art,  as  in  life,  it 
depends  mainly  on  simplicity  of  purpose.  Turner's 
decision  came  chiefly  of  his  truthfulness  ;  it  was 
because  he  meant  always  to  be  true  that  he  was 
able  always  to  be  bold"  (Z.  F.,  chap.  viii.  §  27). 

157.  Style. — The  perfect  method  of  painting 
is  therefore  a  sort  of  mosaic,  whether  in  oil  or 
water-colour.  Mr.  Ruskin  recognises  no  essential 
distinction  between  the  two  materials  as  to  manner 
of  work,  though  he  does  not  allow  that  water-colour 
should  be  used  as  an  imitation  of  oil-painting. 
The  technical  conditions  of  water-colour  imply 
transparency  and  lightness — not  fulness  of  colour 

z 


338  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

and  power  of  relief.  It  is  rightly  called  in  old- 
fashioned  language  "  water-colour  drawing^  But 
when  body-colour  is  used,  its  technical  conditions 
are  changed ;  and  in  his  earlier  teaching  he  advises 
the  use  of  body-colour  from  the  first  {E.  D.^  Letter 
iii.  p.  201),  partly  because  it  approximates  to 
Fresco,  and  shares  its  bloomy  texture  of  unvar- 
nished surface.  But  whether  painting  be  in 
fresco  or  oil,  pure  water-colour  or  body-colour,  its 
technical  virtue  is  fully  attained  only  in  decision 
and  freshness  ;  and,  apart  from  that,  in  painting, 
as  in  other  work,  it  is  better  to  do  a  little  piece 
well  than  a  great  piece  badly.  Decision,  it  must 
be  remembered,  in  our  author's  terminology,  is 
not  synonymous  with  "  boldness "  or  haste  ;  it 
involves  careful  preparatory  study  and  observation, 
and  no  excuse  for  bungling  draughtsmanship,  or 
faulty  values,  or  hasty  execution,  or  coarsely- 
modulated  gradations,  can  be  drawn  from  his 
advice. 

Of  the  relative  position  of  oil  and  water-colour 
he  speaks  in  Z.  A.,  §  128,  saying  that  oil-colour 
is  the  proper  work  for  artists  ;  but  as  its  manage- 
ment is  more  difficult,  and  its  materials  practically 
inconvenient  for  use  among  books  and  papers,  or 
for  memoranda  and  note-book  sketches,  the  amateur 
student  is  wiser  in  employing  water-colour.  And 
yet  "  the  extended  practice  of  water-colour  paint- 
ing, as  a  separate  skill,  is  in  every  way  harmful 
to  the  Arts  ;  its  pleasant  slightness  and  plausible 
dexterity  divert  the  genius  of  the  painter  from  its 
proper  aims,  and  withdraw  the  attention  of  the 
public  from  excellence  of  higher  claim." 


XIX  Painting  339 

For  Sculpture,  and  for  Engraving,  and  for 
Painting  there  is  a  proper  method,  ascertainable 
by  inquiry  into  the  laws  of  their  production.  But, 
as  in  Ethics  the  ideal  of  morality  is  necessarily 
unattainable,  so  in  Art  the  perfect  way  is  not 
that  which  any  given  man  can  claim  to  have 
walked  to  the  end.  To  determine  it  as  a  criterion 
of  excellence  is  necessary  ;  but  to  require  it  of 
every  artist  is  absurd.  Nor  does  Mr.  Ruskin 
demand  that  every  student  and  painter  should 
approximate  to  his  standard.  Every  man  has  his 
own  gifts  and  aims,  and  he  is  right  in  finding 
out  what  he  can  do,  and  doing  that,  without 
attempting  things  to  him  impossible.  "  If  we 
know  our  weakness,  it  becomes  our  strength  ;  and 
the  joy  of  every  painter,  by  which  he  is  made 
narrow,  is  also  the  gift  by  which  he  is  made 
delightful,  so  long  as  he  is  modest  in  the  thought 
of  his  distinction  from  others,  and  no  less  severe 
in  the  indulgence  than  careful  in  the  cultivation 
of  his  proper  instincts.  .  .  .  He  will  find,  in  his 
distinctness,  his  glory  and  his  use  ;  but  destroys 
himself  in  demanding  that  all  men  should  stand 
within  his  compass,  or  see  through  his  colour." 


CHAPTER    XX 

STUDY   AND   CRITICISM 

158.  Style  and  Teaching. — "  No  true  disciple  of 
mine,"  the  author  says  {St.  Mark's  Rest,  Preface 
to  Second  Supplement),  "  will  ever  be  a  '  Rus- 
kinian ' !  He  will  follow  not  me,  but  the  instincts 
of  his  own  soul,  and  the  guidance  of  its  Creator." 
It  has,  however,  not  been  well  understood  by  those 
who  have  accepted  Mr.  Ruskin  as  a  teacher  that 
he  does  not  profess  to  train  artists.  He  has  his 
own  style  of  work,  and  he  can  teach  that  style, 
and  he  can  teach  many  things  about  Art  which 
others  ignore  or  cannot  graSp ;  but  he  never 
undertakes  to  furnish  the  professional  student  with 
a  repertory  of  rules  and  methods,  so  that  he  may 
become  a  great  artist,  still  less  to  show  the  amateur 
a  short-cut  to  success.  On  the  contrary,  that  is 
exactly  what  his  whole  teaching  declares  to  be  a 
delusion  and  a  snare ;  his  whole  influence  with 
students  and  artists  has  been  given  to  make  them 
better  men,  that  is,  with  broader  sympathies  and 
keener  intellectual  habits ;  and  sometimes  the 
attempt  has  resulted  in  failure,  because  they  were 
incapable   of  assimilating   his  "  strong   meat,"   or 


CHAP.  XX  Study  and  Criticism  341 

mistook  the  purpose  of  his  interference  in  their 
narrow  sphere.  His  first  great  attempt  at  teach- 
ing, at  the  Working  Men's  College,  was,  as  he 
said  in  his  evidence  before  the  National  Gallery- 
Commission,  directed  towards  the  general  culture 
of  the  pupils  rather  than  to  their  special  training 
in  Art ;  and  although  they  did,  in  some  cases, 
become  very  good  painters  or  engravers  or  teachers, 
none  of  them  have  come  before  the  public  as 
popular  artists. 

It  would  be  a  serious  mistake,  then,  to  read 
his  works  in  the  hope  of  learning  any  secret  of 
professional  success.  His  own  style  he  exemplifies, 
that  refined  chiaroscuro  draughtsmanship  {L.  A., 
§  187)  which  is  especially  useful  as  a  method  of 
studying  natural  features  and  the  detail  of  archi- 
tectural sculpture.  The  seventeen  lessons  in  The 
Elements  of  Drawing  W\.\xstx2XQ.  a  series  of  theorems, 
such  as  the  abstract  nature  of  outline,  the  superi- 
ority of  refinement  to  fprce,  the  mystery  of  colour, 
and  so  on  ;  and  the  exercises  in  The  Laws  of 
Feso^^  similarly  direct  the  student's  attention  to 
points  generally  left  unnoticed  by  ordinary  teachers ; 
but  neither  can  be  considered  as  complete  hand- 
books of  Art- Study.  And  the  multiplicity  of 
interests  by  which  his  life  has  been  broken  up 
have  prevented  his  devoting  hinjself  to  teaching, 
with  that  continuous  energy  which  would  have 
given  him  success,  and  enabled  him  to  speak 
authoritatively  on  the  best  methods  of  professional 
training. 

But  Mr.  Ruskin,  though  his  own  style  is  so 
definitely  characterised,  believes  that  there  is  an 


342  Art-  Teach  ing  of  Ruskin  chap. 

ideal  and  right  manner  which  might  be  codified 
into  a  standard  scheme  of  teaching,  just  as  there 
is  a  perfect  style  of  painting,  which  is  neither 
sensual  nor  formal,  neither  exclusively  pious  nor 
affectedly  polite  nor  coarsely  picturesque, — which 
contains  the  elements  of  all  these  without  their 
one-sidedness — the  Art  of  Titian  {T.  P.,  §  57). 
And,  avoiding  eclecticism  on  the  one  hand,  and  on 
the  other  that  weak  affectation  of  extravagance 
which  passes  with  the  public  for  individuality,  he 
would  see  all  students  trained  in  their  first  years 
of  study  under  one  system,  selected  by  the  serious 
care  of  the  best  authorities  acting  in  concert, 
grounded  in  the  fixed  principles  of  all  art,  rooted 
in  the  habit  of  accurate  observation  and  wide 
sympathy,  and  sped  on  their  various  and  divergent 
careers,  not  as  the  nurslings  of  narrow  schools 
and  the  adherents  of  rival  masters,  but,  as  in 
other  professions,  qualified  and  legitimate  practi- 
tioners of  an  accepted  and  .respected  Art.  Some- 
times it  seems  as  though  it  were  wiser  to  develop 
the  idiosyncrasy  of  a  gifted  student ;  but  after  all, 
it  must  be  right  to  teach  him  the  best  methods  to 
begin  with,  and  while  leaving  him  free  in  after 
years  to  choose  his  own  style  and  examples,  to 
put  before  him  the  highest  at  the  outset  {T.  /*., 
§60). 

It  often  happens  that  genius  breaks  its  way 
through  all  neglect  and  opposition,  but  it  must 
more  often  happen  that  it  is  wasted  and  ruined  by 
non-discovery  and  misdirection  (/.^.,  §2 1,  etc.)  In 
order  to  discover  talent,  primary  Schools  of  Art 
are  needed  throughout  the  country,  teaching  with 


XX  Study  and  Criticism  343 

a  view  to  bring  out  the  tise  of  Art,  differing  from 
"  technical  schools  "  in  that  the  time  of  the  pupils 
would  be  spent  in  studying  natural  fact  by  means 
of  drawing  natural  objects,  in  connection  with 
more  or  less  scientific  illustration  of  their  studies  ; 
not  primarily  with  the  intention  of  learning  a  pay- 
ing trade,  but  as  a  means  of  general  culture  {L.  A., 
§  5),  much  more  powerful  than  any  present  system. 
From  these  schools  those  pupils  who  show  aptitude 
for  Art  could  be  drafted  into  the  higher  profes- 
sional schools,  like  those  of  the  Royal  Academy, 
just  cis  the  best  scholars  in  literature  are  sent  up 
to  the  Universities.  And  the  Royal  Academy,  or 
whatever  body  represents  the  collective  talent  of 
the  country  in  Painting  and  Sculpture,  and  the 
Institute  of  Architects,  or  other  authoritative  asso- 
ciation for  the  advancement  of  the  Decorative  Arts, 
should  formulate  with  due  consideration  an  element- 
ary method  of  teaching  (/.  E.,  §  1 60),  a  curriculum 
which  would  turn  out  competent  men,  trained  in  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  their  business  (Z.  -^.,  §  8). 
This,  and  not  the  desultory  perusal  of  his  writings, 
is  Mr.  Ruskin's  ideal  of  Art- Education. 

159.  The  Aim  of  Art- Study. — For  that  vast 
class  of  people  who  do  not  dedicate  themselves 
to  Art,  but  nevertheless  desire,  and  require,  some 
insight  into  its  principles  and  some  command  over 
the  practice  of  it,  the  Universities  have  a  great 
work  to  do.  So  far  back  as  1857,  when  the  first 
steps  were  being  taken  for  the  extension  of  the 
University,  Mr.  Ruskin  proposed  a  system  of  Art- 
Examination  (in  a  letter  to  the  present  Bishop 
of  London,  published  in  a  work  by  Sir  Thomas 


344  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

Acland  on  the  proposed  Local  Examinations, 
1858).  His  objects  were,  to  introduce  Art  as 
a  branch  of  general  education,  to  increase  the 
knowledge  of  it  among  those  who  were  likely 
to  become  patrons,  and  to  discover  latent  genius. 
The  Ruskin  Drawing  School  at  Oxford  was,  many 
years  later,  founded  in  the  hope  of  realising  these 
ideas,  or  rather,  the  first  two  of  them. 

All  higher  education  includes  in  its  conception 
the  whole  range  of  the  Arts,  those  of  language, 
sound,  and  form.  To  the  teaching  of  natural 
form,  that  is,  to  all  branches  of  Science,  the  practice 
of  Drawing  is  not  only  an  efficient  help,  but  a 
necessary  complement  and  corrective.  To  learn 
Music  you  must  produce  the  sound  with  voice  and 
instrument ;  to  learn  the  complete  truth  about 
phenomena  you  must  habitually  reproduce  them 
in  Drawing  ;  no  mere  reading  will  so  fix  the  facts 
on  the  memory,  and  unveil  them  to  the  observa- 
tion. And  if  Physical  Sciences,  such  as  Natural 
History,  are  to  be  taught  at  all,  they  will  be  best 
taught  in  conjunction  with  Drawing,  if  the  lessons 
are  combined  by  an  intelligent  teacher.  The 
amount  of  Art-skill  required  is  not  great,  and  it 
was  proved  to  Mr.  Ruskin  by  his  experience  at 
the  Working  Men's  College — and  it  has  been 
proved  since  abundantly — that  it  is  not  at  all 
impossible  to  realise  this  ideal  (/.  E.,  §  156).  No 
museums  or  lectures  supply  the  place  of  this  kind 
of  practical  teaching  {Old  Road,  vol.  i.  p.  276), 
upon  which  not  only  greater  knowledge  of  things 
in  general  is  founded,  but  the  beginning  of  a 
special  interest  in  Art. 


XX  Study  and  Criticism  345 

160.  Study  for  Amateurs. — If  it  be  necessary 
to  educate  the  artist,  it  is  quite  as  necessary  to 
educate  the  public  to  appreciation  of  his  work. 
The  claims  of  the  amateur  and  critic  and  patron 
to  a  sound  and  consistent  knowledge  of  the  works 
he  is  to  admire  and  judge  and  possess,  are  hardly 
satisfied  under  present  arrangements.  The  typical 
amateur  is,  nowadays,  not  a  lover  of  Art,  but  a 
would-be  artist,  emulous  of  the  reputation  and 
jealous  of  the  success  of  his  professional  friends  ; 
the  weaker  offspring  of  the  self-same  school,  fail- 
ing from  indolence  or  misapplied  energy,  and  still 
struggling  to  find  a  place  in  the  borders  of  the  / 
professional  body.  But  that  is  not  the  true  con- 
ception of  the  amateur,  who  in  old  times  was 
severed  from  the  artist  by  a  great  gulf,  now 
bridged  by  modern  democracy,  of  social  distinc- 
tion ;  which,  whatever  its  inconveniences,  kept 
the  two  in  right  relation,  as  distinct  and  comple- 
mentary workers  in  the  same  cause.  To  be  versed 
in  the  practice  of  Art,  while  recognising  that 
talent  and  life-long  devotion  are  necessary  to  the 
profession  of  it ;  to  appreciate  and  not  to  emulate, 
that  is  the  business  of  the  amateur  who  knows  his 
privileges,  and  feels  the  greatness  of  the  men  he 
honours  and  encourages  by  his  admiration.  The 
modern  competitive  overproduction  of  painting, 
crowded  into  our  galleries,  is,  if  anything,  a  sign 
of  deterioration.  It  means  that  the  standard  of 
Art  is  so  low  as  to  permit  the  casual  amusement 
of  the  clever  sketcher  to  rank  with  the  labour  of 
men  who  profess  themselves  the  successors  of 
Raphael  and  Reynolds  ;  so  low  as  to  drag  down 


346  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

individual  ideals  to  the  level  of  that  cheap  trickery 
which  can  be  taught  in  a  few  lessons  and  practised 
in  odd  half-hours. 

But  the  true  amateur  is  one  who  knows  the 
value  of  good  work  by  experience  of  the  difficulty 
he  has  found  in  imitating  it  He  loves  it  too 
well  to  parade  his  attempt  as  successful,  and  he 
understands  the  possibilities  of  it  too  thoroughly 
to  desire  that  the  earnest  workman  should  lower 
his  aim  to  keep  him  company.  When  he  paints, 
it  is  not  to  make  pictures,  to  exhibit  and  sell 
them,  but  to  get  at  the  beauty  of  Nature,  to  study 
the  greatness  of  the  masters  whom  he  imitates, 
and  to  fathom  the  laws  of  the  Art  he  loves. 

For  this  class  of  student  Mr.  Ruskin  would 
have  provision  made  at  the  Universities,  such  as  is 
already  made  for  the  amateurs  of  literature  and 
philosophy,  of  science  and  music  ;  that  is  to  say, 
a  curriculum  directed  to  the  teaching  of  Art  in 
all  its  branches — its  history,  theory,  and  practice 
in  different  methods  and  materials.  For  this  the 
mere  reading  of  books  and  hearing  of  lectures 
are  inadequate  ;  practical  dealing  with  Art  is  the 
only  efficient  education.  That  it  could  be  worked 
along  with  other  studies  he  has  tried  to  prove  ; 
that  examinations  could  be  held  in  justification  of 
the  time  and  labour  spent  upon  it  he  has  shown  ; 
and  it  may  perhaps  be  hoped  that  in  some  future 
day  the  serious,  consistent  study  of  Art  may  be 
made  practicable  for  non-professional  students  by 
the  establishment  of  proper  courses  of  teaching 
and  examinations,  on  a  level  with  the  other 
"  Schools  "  and  "  Triposes." 


XX  Study  and  Criticism  347 

161.  Who  are  "  tlie  Masters  "  ? — To  appreci- 
ate Art  it  is  necessary  to  study  the  best  that  has 
been  done,  not  by  casual  inspection,  but  as  great 
works  of  literature  are  studied.  This  involves  some 
amount  of  practical  copying,  and  work  after  the 
methods  of  great  masters  {L.  A.,  §  71).  It  is 
impossible  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  a  painter 
without  following  him  in  his  execution  ;  to  realise 
his  finesse  and  his  force,  his  choice  of  truth,  his 
subtle  discriminations  of  character,  and  all  that 
goes  to  make  him  great  as  compared  with  the 
inferior  imitators  of  his  style.  But  copying  is 
generally  used  merely  to  learn  these  inferior 
tricks,  to  teach  the  would-be  professional  how  to 
induce  a  superficial  resemblance  of  a  popular 
mannerism,  or  to  manufacture  for  sale  colourable 
imitations  of  works  inaccessible  to  the  general 
buyer.  Accurate  facsimiles,  or  artistic  reproduc- 
tions in  place  of  engravings,  are  desirable  when 
done  by  painters  who  devote  their  best  energies 
to  this  kind  of  work  ;  but  for  purposes  of  study 
by  non  -  professionals  Mr.  Ruskin  advises  the 
careful  copying  of  parts  from  great  pictures  as 
they  stand,  without  attempted  restoration  (L.  F., 
Aph.  19),  and  intelligent  abstracts  of  the  whole 
subject. 

What  standards  and  examples  are  to  be  chosen 
for  such  study  ?  In  his  early  teaching  Mr.  Ruskin 
assumed  that  the  highest  development  of  Art 
must  necessarily  be  the  best  model  for  future 
times,  and  that  seems  at  first  sight  a  plausible 
doctrine.  But  he  rejected  it  after  studying  the 
Sociology  of  Art,  and  discovering  that  this  highest 


34^  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

development  takes  place  always  on  the  dangerous 
edge  before  the  downfall ;  that  it  contains  the 
seeds  of  that  crop  of  gaudy  wild-flowers  which,  in 
the  decadence,  choke  the  good  growth  of  perfect 
Art.  And  after  learning  tJiat,  the  highest  we  can 
expect,  without  absurd  presumption,  is  to  rival 
the  consummation  of  the  schools  of  the  past — 
not  to  rise  from  them  to  fancied  higher  regions 
— to  work  out  in  our  own  way  something  that 
may  be  not  unworthy  of  mention  beside  Pheidias 
and  Michelangelo,  Titian  and  Velasquez,  without 
ridiculously  pretending  to  improve  upon  them. 
Now  to  do  as  they  did  we  must  learn  as  they 
learned  ;  we  must  put  ourselves  under  the  great 
masters  who  taught  these  greatest  artists  the  way 
to  develop  their  powers.  A  great  master  is  one 
who  has  great  scholars,  but  Michelangelo  and 
Raphael,  Titian,  Veronese,  and  Tintoret  entirely 
failed  to  teach  their  Art,  the  full  virtue  of  their 
work,  to  their  successors.  The  reason  is  twofold  : 
partly  because  the  moral  and  social  conditions 
produced  degeneracy  in  the  age  succeeding  theirs, 
the  late  Renaissance ;  and  partly  because  their 
methods  were  not  broadly  elementary,  as  all 
teaching  methods  must  be.  A  very  great  artist 
has  his  own  tricks  and  turns  of  manner  ;  his  own 
choice  and  catch  of  expression  ;  his  own  peculi- 
arities, which  to  reproduce  is  the  whole  care  of  his 
pupil  to  the  exclusion  of  intelligent  self-develop- 
ment. .  So  that  a  very  great  artist  is  probably  a 
very  bad  master,  and  only  a  master  against  his 
better  judgment,  taking  pupils  rather  for  fame  and 
pay  and  as  assistants  in  his  work  than  for  the 


XX  Study  and  Criticism  349 

real  help  he  can  give  them  towards  becoming  true 
painters  themselves. 

But  the  really  great  "  master "  is  he  whose 
methods  and  principles  are  intellectually  definite 
and  practically  sound,  capable  of  being  applied  to 
all  subjects  and  requirements  of  varied  aim,  leaving 
scope  for  individuality  in  the  pupil  and  develop- 
ment, restraining,  for  the  time,  passion,  and  culti- 
vating needed  patience  ;  in  a  word,  the  great 
master  is  not  an  artist  of  the  most  brilliant  and 
forceful  genius,  but  one  of  singular  intellectual 
power,  conscious  of  his  aims  and  critical  of  his 
means  and  methods.  Such  men  were  the  teachers 
of  Raphael  and  Michelangelo  and  Leonardo,  of 
Titian,  Veronese,  and  Tintoret ;  and  if  we  wish  to 
learn  the  secret  of  these  great  painters,  as  far  as 
it  can  ever  be  learned,  we  must  begin  where  they 
began,  and  work  under  Perugino  and  Ghirlandajo 
and  Verrocchio  and  Giovanni  Bellini,  whose  age 
and  art  are  justly  to  be  respected  as  "  of  the 
masters."  Our  author's  Laws  of  Fesole  are  so 
called  as  representing  the  standards  of  practice 
current  in  the  age  of  the  masters  in  Tuscany 
round  about  Fiesole  (then  called  Fesole  from  Latin 
Faesulae).  The  teaching  that  developed  Raphael 
and  his  great  contemporaries  is  decipherable, 
partly  in  Leonardo's  treatise  (Z.  A.,  §§  26,  129, 
etc.),  partly  in  the  works  of  the  masters  themselves, 
which  thereby  became  valuable  as  standards  and 
examples. 

162.  Standards  of  Art- Study. — Thus  there 
has  been  a  tendency  in  Mr.  Ruskin's  advice  on 
study  as  he  grew  older  to  "  put  the  clock  back," 


3 5 o  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

and,  instead  of  the  later  and  greater  names,  to 
propose  in  every  school  an  earlier  stage,  as  ex- 
emplary to  the  modern  student.  Raphael,  Rubens, 
and  Michelangelo,  Rembrandt  and  Durer,  Vandyck 
and  Tintoret,  are  deposed  one  by  one  as  good 
teachers^  and  in  explaining  the  danger  of  follow- 
ing their  practice,  Mr.  Ruskin  sometimes  gives 
the  impression  that  he  underrates  their  genius. 
But  that  is  the  reader's  mistake ;  there  must 
always  be  a  distinction  made  between  teaching 
and  criticism  (§  162).  On  the  disqualifications  of 
Michelangelo  as  teacher,  see  The  Relation  between 
Michelangelo  and  Tintoret  (shilling  pamphlet), 
especially  the  prefatory  note,  which  I  mention 
because  some  of  Mr.  Ruskin's  followers  have  taken 
up  his  parable  against  the  greatest  Florentine  with 
more  zeal  than  discretion,  forgetting  that  Mr. 
Ruskin  is  not  a  partisan  in  these  matters,  but  a 
philosopher,  if  any  one  is, — much  misrepresented 
when  the  context  and  intention  of  his  words  are 
no  longer  allowed  to  tone  them  down. 

Hence  the  two  classes  of  standard  artists  given 
in  The  Elements  of  Drawing  need  rearrangement. 
They  were:  Class  I., "always  right" — Titian,  Veron- 
ese, Tintoret,  Giorgione,  John  Bellini,  and  Velas- 
quez ;  Class  II.,  "admitting  question  of  right  and 
wrong" — Van  Eyck,  Holbein,  Perugino,  Francia, 
Angelico,  Leonardo,  Correggio,  Vandyck,  Rem- 
brandt, Reynolds,  Gainsborough,  Turner,  and  the 
Pre-Raphaelites.  "You  had  better  look  at  no 
other  painters  than  these."  Of  engravings  the 
student  is  advised  to  "  look  at "  a  specified  list  of 
Turner's  (of  which  the  most  desirable  are  Barnard 


XX  Study  and  Criticism  351 

Castle,  Buckfastleigh,  Dartmouth  Cave,  Flint  Castle, 
Knaresborough,  Lancaster  Sands,  Launceston, 
Chain  Bridge  over  the  Tees,  and  High  Force  of 
Tees — from  the  England  Series  ;  Drachenfels, 
Marly  and  Ballyburgh  Ness — from  the  Keepsake ; 
Solomon's  Pools — from  the  Bible ;  Melrose,  Dry- 
burgh,  Loch  Coriskin — from  Scott ;  Rouen,  look- 
ing down  the  river,  poplars  on  the  right,  and 
Caudebec — from  Rivers  of  France~)  ;  also  Rem- 
brandt's Spotted  Shell  and  Diirer's  Melencolia ; 
Front's  Lithographs  ;  John  Lewis's  Sketches  in 
Spain  ;  Cruikshank's  Grimm  ;  Rethel ;  Bewick  ; 
Blake's  Job ;  Ludwig  Richter's  Lord's  Prayer ; 
and  Rossetti's  Illustrations  to  Tennyson. 

Of  these  very  few  have  run  the  gauntlet  of 
forty  years'  criticism  and  still  maintained  our 
author's  high  opinion  of  them  as  trustworthy 
teachers.  But  I  gather  from  the  Oxford  courses 
that  the  student  may  safely  copy  Greek  sculpture 
and  coins  of  the  fifth  and  sixth  centuries  B.C., 
those  of  the  fourth  only  with  discrimination  {A. 
P.,  §  116),  later  classic  sculpture  not  at  all :  most 
Romanesque  twelfth-century  detail  ;  all  thirteenth 
and  fourteenth  century  Gothic  carving  in  good 
French  or  Italian  Architecture,  English  and 
German  with  discrimination  ;  fifteenth-century  and 
early  Renaissance,  where  it  is  pure  and  not  yet 
become  cinquecento,  or  in  the  north  corruptly 
Flamboyant.  In  Painting,  Turner  is  still  standard 
for  landscape  ;  Titian  for  completed  style  in  figure 
painting ;  but  Titian's  master,  Bellini,  is  the  ex- 
ponent of  the  style  in  which  the  student  should 
begin, — that    is,    the    outline    and    colour    style 


352  Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

described  in  our  last  chapter.  Veronese  and 
Giorgione  are  still  quoted  as  consummate  masters 
— but  the  examples  of  the  latter  are  too  rare  to 
be  of  much  use  to  the  English  student.  Tintoret 
is  a  great  painter,  but  an  unsafe  guide  {T.  P., 
App.  i);  Velasquez  keeps  his  place;  but  Rem- 
brandt and  Diirer  fall  before  the  analysis  of  the 
Cestus  of  Aglaia  and  Ariadne  Florentina  ;  while 
Leonardo,  though  treated  with  respect  in  the 
Oxford  Lectures,  is  not  admitted  as  authoritative. 
On  the  other  hand,  Luini,  Carpaccio,  and  Botticelli 
are  added  to  the  list  of  masters.  Of  British 
masters,  Mr.  Ruskin's  last  word  is  that  none  are 
quite  safe  models  for  the  student  in  every  respect 
{A.  E.,  App.)  Even  William  Hunt,  once  accepted 
{T.  P.,  §  69)  as  a  sound  teacher  of  water-colour 
practice,  seems  to  come  under  this  condemnation  ; 
I  suppose  because  he  used  to  "  fudge  things  out," 
and  the  real  master  must  know  what  he  is  doing, 
and  tell  the  student  why ;  which  Hunt  could 
never  do. 

In  Engraving,  Holbein  for  woodcuts  and  Botti- 
celli for  line  are  the  standard  types  (see  chap, 
xvii.)  ;  Richter's  works  are  still  praised  for  their 
fancy  and  feeling.  The  examples  in  the  Oxford 
Drawing  School — where  a  particular  work  can  be 
detached  from  the  less  authoritative  remainder  of 
any  period  and  style — include  specimens  of  all 
kinds,  such  as  the  unassisted  student  could  not 
choose  nor  procure  by  himself  "  You  shall  draw 
Egyptian  kings  dressed  in  colours  like  the  rainbow, 
and  Doric  gods,  and  Runic  monsters,  and  Gothic 
monks — not  that  you  may  draw  like  Egyptians 


XX  Study  and  Criticism  353 

or  Norsemen,  nor  yield  yourselves  passively  to  be 
bound  by  the  devotion,  or  inspired  by  the  passion 
of  the  past,  but  that  you  may  know  truly  what 
other  men  have  felt  during  their  poor  span  of  life  ; 
and  open  your  own  hearts  to  what  the  heavens 
and  the  earth  may  have  to  tell  you  in  yours " 
(Z.A,  §  189). 

163.  Study  from  Nature. — "If  you  desire  to 
draw  that  you  may  represent  something  that  you 
care  for,  you  will  advance  swiftly  and  steadily.  If 
you  desire  to  draw  that  you  may  make  a  beautiful 
drawing,  you  will  never  make  one  "  (Z.  F.,  chap.  i.  § 
7).  This  is  the  principle  of  most  of  Mr.  Ruskin's 
criticism  on  individual  painters,  and  advice  to 
students.  The  general  method  of  drawing  and 
painting,  to  be  taken  by  students  as  standard,  has 
been  described  ;  and  in  a  work  of  this  kind  it  is 
impossible  to  enter  into  details  on  the  subject  of 
materials.  It  should  be  enough  to  say  that  our 
author  advises  the  use  of  the  most  ordinary  and 
inexpensive  colours,  but  the  best  brushes  ;  of  good 
paper,  not  coarse-grained  nor  otherwise  involving 
cleverness  of  management  and  offering  chances 
of  accidental  effect ;  and,  generally  speaking,  he 
decides  against  all  adventitious  helps  to  eye  and 
hand,  whose  training  is  the  object  of  study  ;  but,  in 
first  practice,  lines  must  be  measured  and  ruled  to 
secure  accuracy  with  compasses  and  protractor  (see 
L.  F.,  chaps,  iii.  and  iv.)  His  objection  to  sketching 
blocks  {A.  E.,  App.)  is,  I  believe,  founded  on  the 
principle  that  all  water-colour  outdoor  sketching 
is  of  the  nature  of  a  memorandum  ;  and  the  note- 
book is  the  proper  form  in  which  such  studies  are 
2  A 


354  Art'  Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

best  made  and  preserved.  The  highly  realised 
water-colour  painting  on  a  small  scale,  done  out- 
of-doors,  is  not  recommended  to  the  student  as 
a  thing  to  be  imitated  at  first  ;  but  water-colour 
is  most  convenient  for  outdoor  notes  (Z.  ^.,  § 
128). 

The  "  painful  and  humiliating  exactness  "  which 
Reynolds  required  is  required  by  Ruskin  (Z.  A,^ 
§  127);  accuracy  of  line,  to  be  got  at  first  by 
measurement,  and  of  colour  by  matching  {L.  A.,  §§ 
140,  142) ;  no  success  is  to  be  hoped  for  through 
ill-regulated  effort  (Z.  y^.,  §  163  ;  L.  F.,  chap.  iv.  § 
21);  do  great  things  before  little  ones — masses 
before  details,  colour  before  texture  (Z.  A.,  §  140). 
To  secure  breadth  of  treatment  paint  or  draw  always 
life-size  (Z.  F.,  Aph.  2),  and  attempt  the  effect  of  the 
object  as  seen  at  a  distance  of  twelve  feet  (Aph. 
3) ;  not,  however,  slurring  or  sketching  (Z.  F., 
chap.  iv.  p.  14),  seeing  the  surface  and  modelling, 
not  peering  into  the  texture,  and  grasping  the 
relations  of  value  and  harmony  of  colours,  not 
letting  the  eye  rest  exclusively  on  any  one  part, 
as  it  does  when  the  object  is  seen  close.  "  Without 
perfect  delineation  of  form  and  perfect  gradation 
of  space,  neither  noble  colour  is  possible,  nor  noble 
light  "(Z.  A,  §  159). 

For  professional  students  the  study  of  the  nude 
is  absolutely  necessary,  but  anatomy  is  harmful 
{A.  F,  App.  4).  Instead,  the  attention  of  the 
student  should  be  directed  to  certain  general  laws 
of  structure  as  manifested  in  the  external  aspect 
of  organic  form  ;  for  example,  the  law  of  radiation 
(Z.  F,  chap,  vi.)  and  the  other  laws  of  Beauty  and 


XX  Study  and  Criticism  355 

design  (see  §§  56,  125),  If  these  be  looked  for, 
rather  than  the  underlying  structure,  a  great  saving 
of  misspent  energy  is  effected,  and  the  danger  of 
confusing  Science  and  Art  avoided  (chap,  vi.) 
The  Greeks  did  not  study  anatomy ;  no  more  need 
the  modern  artist.  But  Mr.  Ruskin  strongly  ad- 
vocates study  of  the  figure  :  even  decorative  work- 
men and  designers  of  patterns  must  study  the 
figure  thoroughly  as  the  preliminary  to  all  work 
in  Art  {T.  P.,  §  83)  ;  no  good  ornament  can 
be  otherwise  produced.  Landscapists,  a  fortiori, 
must  base  their  studies  on  a  course  of  figure- 
drawing  ;  not  for  the  sake  of  learning  how  to 
insert  figures,  but  to  gain  general  power  and 
knowledge. 

Special  outdoor  study  of  landscape  is  taken 
(in  E.  D.)  under  three  heads  :  (i)  Work  at  leisure, 
in  tint  reinforced  and  defined  with  pen  ;  (2)  in 
haste,  either  study  of  effect  with  soft  pencil  and 
single  gray  wash,  afterwards  rubbing  and  scratch- 
ing out  lights,  or  outline,  as  memorandum  of 
facts  and  written  notes  ;  (3)  rapid  block-out  with 
pencil,  dash  of  shadow  with  brush,  and  vigorous 
outline  with  pen,  when  dry.  The  tendency  of  the 
later  teaching  is  to  restrict  all  student's  work  to 
careftd  and  leisurely  work  ;  not  advising  (2)  and 
(3)  until  the  student  has  advanced  into  something 
like  a  capable  workman. 

The  choice  of  landscape  subjects  for  study  is 
wide:  "Anything  will  do  for  a  study"  {Academy 
Notes,  1858).  But,  as  we  have  seen,  tmspoiled 
Nature  is  assumed  to  be  the  field  of  the  student's 
exercises ;   consequently,  artificial  rearrangements 


356  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

of  Nature  are  not  good  subjects.  Nothing  is  more 
difficult  to  the  landscape  student  or  amateur  than 
wise  selection,  but  useful  hints  are  given  in  the  two 
lists  following:  {A)  Things  to  avoid — (i)  places 
that  you  love  on  account  of  their  associations, 
such  as  your  paternal  mansion  with  its  iron  railings ; 
(2)  anything  polished;  (3)  all  very  neat  things;  (4) 
tangles  and  complications,  as  of  a  cottage  seen 
through  a  thin  tree;  (5)  hedgerows.  {B)  Things  to 
draw — banks,  rivers'  edges,  roots  of  trees,  mossy 
mill-dams,  roadsides  in  a  chalk  country,  the  bases 
of  tree-trunks  of  about  nine  inches  or  a  foot  in 
diameter,  with  a  little  ivy  running  up  them  {E.  D., 
Letter  ii.)  These  are  suggestions  for  the  beginner 
in  out-of-door  work,  after  going  through  the  course 
of  outline  and  wash  in  the  Drawing  School ;  but 
the  teacher  cannot  long  hold  his  hand,  and  must 
soon  trust  him  to  his  own  devices  and  discretion. 

164.  Teaching  and  Criticism. — And  here  we 
come  to  the  point  at  which  the  Teacher  gives 
place  to  the  Critic.  Technical  method  in  its 
elementary  stages  can  be  taught ;  but  when  once 
the  student  becomes  an  artist,  he  creates  his  own 
methods,  which  thereafter  can  only  be  criticised 
according  to  their  results.  The  fundamental  laws 
of  Nature  and  Art  can  be  taught ;  but  the  selec- 
tion of  his  subject  in  illustration  of  these  laws,  the 
combination  of  ideas,  is  not  to  be  taught,  but  only 
to  be  criticised.  The  critic's  work  begins  where 
the  teacher's  ends ;  and  that  is  sooner  than  is 
popularly  supposed.  For — partly  because  artists 
do  not  like  to  put  forward  their  claim  to  special 
gift,  and   partly  because   the   imitation   of  those 


XX  Study  and  Criticism  357 

gifts  seems  often  so  like  the  real  thing — we  often 
hesitate  to  admit,  what  Mr.  Ruskin  states  with 
strong  emphasis,  that  the  powers  of  design  and 
execution  are  innate  and  instinctive,  hereditary 
faculties,  depending  on  conditions  of  morality, 
which  we  have  already  noticed,  and  as  valuable 
as  they  are  rare.  The  fineness  of  perception,  the 
steadiness  of  nerve,  the  muscular,  precision  of  a 
great  artist,  are,  for  mere  physical  quality,  beyond 
the  reach  of  any  drill  or  method  of  teaching  ;  they 
are  the  result  of  racial  conditions,  sociological  -and 
moral,  which  have  taken  ages  of  preparation,  and 
involve  all  manner  of  unexpected  issues  {L.  A., 
§  71).  Hence,  great  execution  is  a  sign  of 
unparalleled  power,  and  must  not  be  mistaken 
for  the  acquired  accomplishment  of  the  first 
comer.  Great  design  is  another  faculty  of  like 
sort,  which  may  indeed  be  hampered  and  hindered 
by  bad  teaching,  but  can  never  be  created  by  the 
best. 

But  these  gifts,  not  to  be  gained  by  anything 
we  can  do,  may  be  lost  by  our  failure  to  recognise, 
or  folly  in  misapplying  them  ;  and  it  is  necessary 
to  the  wellbeing  of  Art  that  both  good  teachers 
and  good  critics  should  coexist  along  with  good 
artists.  In  a  way,  and  in  a  degree,  every  one  is 
an  Art-critic,  for  we  all  have  to  do  with  Art, 
either  as  helping  or  delaying  it ;  we  all  either 
patronise  it  or  pooh-pooh  it.  The  great  class  of 
amateurs,  especially,  merges  into  that  of  the  critics, 
who  need  not  print  their  criticisms  to  give  them 
effect.  To  tolerate  evil,  or  to  ignore  good,  is 
indirect  criticism,  and  that  of  a  kind  often  more 


358  Art- Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

^  effectual  than  the  choicest  vituperation  or  the  most 
fulsome  flattery  of  the  press  (/.  E,,  passim). 

165.  The  Function  of  the  Critic — ''Qualified, 
though  not  faint  praise  is  the  real  function  of  just 
criticism  ;  for  the  multitude  can  always  see  the 
faults  of  good  work,  but  never,  unaided,  its  virtues  ; 
on  the  contrary,  it  is  equally  quick-sighted  to  the 
vulgar  merits  of  bad  work,  but  no  tuition  will 
enable  it  to  condemn  the  vices  with  which  it  has 
a  natural  sympathy  ;  and,  in  general,  the  blame  of 
them  is  wasted  on  its  deaf  ears "  {A.  E.,  App.) 
**  You  can,  in  truth,  understand  a  man's  word  only 
by  understanding  his  temper"  (Z.  A.,  §  6"^),  and 
in  so  far  as  Art  is  a  language  this  is  true  of  Art : 
sympathy  and  penetrative  imagination  are  neces- 
sary for  criticism.  This  conception  of  it  was  hardly 
known  before  Mr.  Ruskin  set  the  example  and 
showed  the  way.  It  was  considered  enough  to 
measure  any  new  work  by  the  rules  of  current 
academicism,  and  to  announce  the  result ;  too 
short,  or  too  long,  was  equally  a  misfit.  But 
scientific  criticism  is  quite  another  thing ;  to  ^ee 
in  any  work,  not  only  a  net  result,  but  a  process, 
a  step  in  evolution,  a  record  of  moral  and  social 
progress,  encouraging  or  disheartening  ;  to  judge 
it  from  full  knowledge  of  the  circumstances  of  its 
production,  and  to  assign  it  a  place  in  history  ; 
all  this  has  been  the  aim  of  good  criticism  since 
Ruskin  wrote  his  Modern  Painters,  and  illustrated 
his  method  by  applying  it  to  Turner  and  Tintoret. 

From  this  it  follows,  "  First,  that  sound  criticism 
of  Art  is  impossible  to  young  men.  ...  A  great 
artist  represents  many  and  abstruse  facts  ;   it  is 


XX  Study  and  Criticism  359 

necessary,  in  order  to  judge  of  his  work,  that  all 
those  facts  should  be  experimentally  (not  by 
hearsay)  known  to  the  observer,  whose  recogni- 
tion of  them  constitutes  his  approving  judgment. 
A  young  man  cannot  know  them.  Criticism  of 
Art  by  young  men  must,  therefore,  consist  either 
in  the  more  or  less  apt  retailing  and  application 
of  received  opinions,  or  in  a  more  or  less  immediate 
and  dexterous  use  of  the  knowledge  they  already 
possess,  so  as  to  be  able  to  assert  of  given  works 
of  Art  that  they  are  true  up  to  a  certain  point ; 
the  probability  being  then  that  they  are  true 
farther  than  the  young  man  sees.  The  first  kind 
of  criticism  is,  in  general,  useless,  if  not  harmful  ; 
the  second  is  that  which  youths  will  employ  who 
are  capable  of  becoming  critics  in  after  years. 

"  Secondly,  all  criticism  of  Art,  at  whatever 
period  of  life,  must  be  partial,  warped  more  or 
less  by  the  feelings  of  the  person  endeavouring  to 
judge.  Certain  merits  of  Art  (as  energy,  for 
instance)  are  pleasant  only  to  certain  tempera- 
ments ;  and  certain  tendencies  of  Art  (as,  for 
instance,  to  religious  sentiment)  can  only  be 
sympathised  with  by  one  order  of  minds.  .  .  . 

"  Thirdly,  the  history  of  Art  is  in  no  wise 
directly  connected  with  the  studies  which  promote 
or  detect  Art-capacity  or  Art-judgment  It  is 
quite  possible  to  acquire  the  most  extensive  and 
useful  knowledge  of  the  forms  of  Art  existing  in 
different  ages,  and  among  different  nations,  with- 
out thereby  acquiring  any  power  whatsoever  of 
determining  respecting  any  of  them  (much  less 
respecting  a  modern  work  of  Art),  whether  it  is 


360  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

good  or  bad  "  ( The  A  rts  as  a  Branch  of  Educa- 
tion, 1857). 

Nor  can  the  laws  of  criticism  be  learnt  theo- 
retically even  from  the  most  complete  philosophy 
of  Art  or  exposition  of  its  virtues,  unless  the 
intending  critic  be  a  practical  amateur  of  Art. 
"  For  those  who  will  not  learn  to  carve  or  paint, 
and  think  themselves  greater  men  because  they 
cannot," — this  is  addressed,  in  the  first  place,  to 
architects, — "it  is  wholly  wasted  time  to  read  any 
words  of  mine  ;  in  the  truest  and  sternest  sense 
they  can  read  no  words  of  mine  ;  for  the  most 
familiar  I  can  use — '  form,'  *  proportion,'  '  beauty,' 
'  curvature,'  '  colour ' — are  used  in  a  sense  which 
by  no  effort  I  can  communicate  to  such  readers  " 
{T.  P.,  Preface). 

166.  T/ie  Criteria  of  Art. — But  some  few  prin- 
ciples can  be  gathered  as  the  first  rough  tests  to 
apply  to  any  given  work.  Genius  is  so  difficult  a 
thing  to  deal  with,  that  it  is  generally  misunder- 
stood until  it  is  too  late  to  encourage  it  (/.  E., 
§  26),  though  "  a  really  good  picture  is  ultimately 
always  approved  and  bought,  unless  it  is  wilfully 
rendered  offensive  to  the  public  by  faults  which 
the  artist  has  been  either  too  proud  to  abandon 
or  too  weak  to  correct "  (Z.  ^.,  §  7).  "  But  there 
is  one  fault  which  you  may  be  quite  sure  is  un- 
necessary, and  therefore  a  real  and  blamable  fault, 
that  is,  haste,  involving  negligence.  Whenever 
you  see  that  a  young  man's  work  is  either  bold  or 
slovenly,  then  you  may  attack  it  firmly,  sure  of 
being  right.  If  his  work  is  bold,  it  is  insolent ; 
repress    his    insolence ;     if    it    is    slovenly,    it    is 


XX  Study  and  Criticism  361 

indolent ;  spur  his  indolence.  So  long  as  he 
works  in  that  dashing  or  impetuous  way,  the  best 
hope  for  him  is  in  your  contempt,  and  it  is  only 
by  the  fact  of  his  seeming  not  to  seek  your 
approbation  that  you  may  conjecture  he  deserves 
it.  But  if  he  does  deserve  it,  be  sure  that  you 
give  it  him,  else  you  not  only  run  a  chance  of 
driving  him  from  the  right  road  by  want  of 
encouragement,  but  you  deprive  yourselves  of  the 
happiest  privilege  you  will  ever  have  of  rewarding 
his  labour"  (/.  E.,  §§  25,  26). 

In  Modern  Paititers  (vol.  iii.  chap,  iii.)  there  are 
four  canons  of  criticism,  so  to  speak,  which,  if  diffi- 
cult to  apply,  are  no  more  difficult  than  any  criteria 
should  be  in  so  difficult  an  analysis.  Taking 
them  in  ascending  order  of  importance,  a  great 
man  will  generally  choose  a  Noble  Subject,  rather 
than  a  brutal  or  vicious  one.  And  yet  the  subject 
alone  does  not  make  greatness,  for  it  must  be 
treated  nobly,  involving  high  technical  power  in 
one  or  other  direction,  not  necessarily  in  all ; 
because  one  man  cannot  master  every  excellence, 
and  some  great  aims  are  incompatible  with  others. 
Next,  he  will  seek  an  excess  of  Beauty  in  addition 
to  Truth,  not  an  excess  of  Beauty  inconsistent 
with  Truth.  Third,  he  will  be  Sincere,  and  show 
it  in  distinctness  of  aim,  completeness  of  repre- 
sentation, and  delicacy  of  execution.  Distinctness 
does  not  mean  crude  detail  or  hard  drawing,  but 
definite  grasp  of  his  subject,  which,  if  it  be 
essentially  misty  or  dim,  will  produce  a  misty  or 
dim  picture,  the  aim  still  being  distinct.  Com- 
pleteness often  involves  largeness  of  scale,  for  it  is 


362  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

only  on  the  scale  of  life  that  life  can  be  fully 
represented  so  as  to  be  effectively  seen  ;  and  yet 
some  of  the  greatest  works,  such  as  Turner's 
water-colours,  are  on  a  miniature  scale,  finished 
with  microscopical  fulness,  and  give  as  much  Truth 
and  Beauty  as  the  acreage  of  other  men's  canvases. 
And  delicacy  is  the  token  of  moral  and  mental 
and  physical  sensibility,  without  which  Great  Art 
is  impossible  ("  all  Great  Art  is  delicate,"  is  a 
favourite  maxim  of  the  later  works  also)  ;  but  it 
does  not  mean  minuteness,  for  the  large  and  swift 
dashes  of  Reynolds  or  Tintoret  are  delicate  because 
of  their  accurate  adjustment  to  the  general  effect 
of  the  picture.  Last,  and  most  important,  is 
Imagination,  the  poetic,  creative  faculty,  giving 
"  noble  grounds  for  noble  emotion." 

In  the  closing  lecture  of  the  Oxford  course  on 
Sculpture  (1871)  a  still  more  penetrative  remark 
is  added  to  these.  "  Calmness  is  the  attribute  of 
the  entirely  highest  class  of  Art ;  the  introduction 
of  strong  or  violently  emotional  incident  is  at  once 
a  confession  of  inferiority."  Thus  the  first  attri- 
butes of  the  best  Art  are  "  faultless  Workmanship 
and  perfect  Serenity;  a  continuous,  not  momentary, 
action — or  entire  inaction.  You  are  to  be  inter- 
ested in  the  living  creatures,  not  in  what  is 
happening  to  them. 

"Then  the  third  attribute  of  the  best  Art  is 
that  it  compels  you  to  think  of  the  spirit  of  the 
creature,  and  therefore  of  its  face  more  than  of  its 
body.  And  the  fourth  is  that  in  the  face  you 
shall  be  led  to  see  only  beauty  or  joy,  never  vile- 
ness,  vice,  or  pain.     Those  are  the  four  essentials 


XX  Study  and  Criticism  363 

of  the  greatest  Art.  I  repeat  them,  they  are  easily 
learned — 

"(i)  Faultless  and  permanent  workmanship. 

"  (2)   Serenity  in  state  and  action. 

"  (3)  The  Face  principal,  not  the  body. 

"  (4)  And  the  Face  free  from  either  vice  or 
pain." 

167.  The  Future  of  Art. — These  rules  were 
illustrated  in  the  work  of  Bellini,  who,  we  saw, 
was  to  be  regarded  as  the  chief  of  the  age  of 
"masters";  since  when — how  far  has  Art,  judged 
by  this  theory  which  we  have  now  studied,  made 
progress  and  advancement  toward  perfection  ? 
That  the  Art  of  this  century  has  advanced,  on 
the  whole,  is  the  belief  of  Mr.  Ruskin,  as  I  gather 
it  from  the  opening  of  his  latest  lectures  on  the 
subject  {A.  E.,  pp.  4,  5),  but  not  that  the  work  of 
the  present  day  surpasses  the  greatest  achieve- 
ments of  the  past.  New  elements  have  been 
added,  the  whole  school  of  Naturalistic  Land- 
scape, for  example  ;  and  yet  merely  to  shift  its 
ground  is  not  to  progress,  or  our  nomadic  ances- 
tors of  neolithic  time  would  have  been  the  most 
progressive  people  in  history.  Art  is,  like  Philo- 
sophy, the  exponent  of  its  age,  and  no  final 
consummation  of  either  need  be  hoped  or  feared 
for  by  any  one,  as  long  as  the  world  goes  on,  and 
human  nature  remains  constant  to  those  laws  by 
which  it  has  abided  since  the  dawn  of  recorded 
time  ;  so  long  must  Art,  in  some  form,  remain 
with  us. 

But  it  may  follow  the  example  of  those  nomad 
tribes,  and   settle  down  to  serious  cultivation  of 


364  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin  chap. 

its  soil,  accumulating  its  wealth,  and  developing 
resources  yet  unexplored.  The  possibilities  of  the 
illustration  of  Nature,  indicated  by  Mr.  Ruskin, 
are  far  from  exhausted  ;  every  new  discovery  in 
the  realm  of  Physical  Science  may  be  paralleled 
by  fresh  interests,  new  ideas  of  Beauty,  opened 
up  to  Art.  Landscape  was  practically  unknown 
before  Nature  was  studied,  and  with  all  new 
movements  toward  the  unknown  and  untried,  Art 
keeps  pace. 

And  there  is  another  field  for  its  extension 
indicated  in  the  moral  nature  of  Art,  so  untiringly 
illustrated  by  Mr.  Ruskin.  The  use  of  Art  is  not 
to  make  pictures  only,  or  carve  stones,  but  to 
make  men  ;  to  give  wider  scope  to  human  sym- 
pathy and  keener  insight  and  deeper  thought. 
The  work  of;' Art  is  not  complete  until  it  reacts 
upon  all  the  human  race  ;  housing  them  first,  and 
feeding  and  clothing  them ;  teaching  them,  too, 
and  raising  their  eyes  from  the  sordid  interests 
and  sensual  indulgences  in  which  so  large  a 
proportion  of  them  is  engrossed.  What  it  can 
do  for  one  and  another,  it  must  do  for  all,  before 
its  work  is  finished.  So  that  the  true  Art-Teach- 
ing is  of  a  piece  with  all  social  progress  and 
political  amelioration,  and  no  earnest  mind  can 
study  Art  without  being  led  through  it  into  wider 
fields  and  all-embracing  realms  of  helpfulness  to 
humanity.  "  The  greater  part  of  the  technic 
energy  of  men,  as  yet,"  says  Mr.  Ruskin  {A.  P., 
§  30),  "has  indicated  a  kind  of  childhood;  the 
race  becomes,  if  not  more  wise,  at  least  more 
manly,  with  every  gained  century.      I   can  fancy 


XX  Study  and  Criticism  365 

that  all  this  sculpturing  and  painting  of  ours  may 
be  looked  back  upon,  in  some  distant  time,  as  a 
kind  of  doll-making,  and  that  the  words  of  Sir 
Isaac  Newton  may  be  smiled  at  no  more  ;  only 
it  will  not  be  for  stars  that  we  desert  our  stone 
dolls,  but  for  men.  When  the  day  comes,  as 
come  it  must,  in  which  we  no  more  deface  and 
defile  God's  image  in  living  clay,  I  an^  not  sure 
that  we  shall  any  of  us  care  so  much  for  images 
of  Him  in  burnt  clay." 

Meanwhile,  to  conclude  his  Art-Teaching  with 
the  closing  words  of  it — alas  for  some  of  us  that 
they  should  be  so! — written  at  Chamouni  on 
Sunday,  1 6th  September  1 888,  to  end  the  Epilogue 
to  the  last  edition  of  his  first  work — his  Nunc 
Diniittis : — 

"  All  that  is  involved  in  these  passionate  utter- 
ances of  my  youth  was  first  expanded  and  then 
concentrated  into  the  aphorism  given  twenty  years 
afterwards  in  my  inaugural  Oxford  Lectures,  '  All 
Great  Art  is  Praise,'  and  on  that  aphorism  the 
yet  bolder  saying  founded,  '  So  far  from  Art's 
being  immoral,  in  the  ultimate  power  of  it,  nothing 
but  Art  is  moral ;  Life  without  Industry  is  sin, 
and  Industry  without  Art  brutality '  (I  forget  the 
words,  but  that  is  their  purport)  ;  and  now,  in 
writing  beneath  the  cloudless  peace  of  the  snows 
of  Chamouni,  what  must  be  the  really  final  words 
of  the  book  which  their  beauty  inspired  and  their 
strength  guided,  I  am  able,  with  yet  happier  and 
calmer  heart  than  ever  heretofore,  to  enforce  its 
simplest  assurance  of  Faith,  that  the  knowledge 
of  what  is  beautiful  leads  on,  and  is  the  first  step 


366  Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin       chap,  xx 

to  the  knowledge  of  the  things  which  are  lovely 
and  of  good  report ;  and  that  the  laws,  the  life, 
and  the  joy  of  Beauty,  in  the  material  world  of 
God,  are  as  eternal  and  sacred  parts  of  His  crea- 
tion as,  in  the  world  of  spirits,  virtue ;  and  in  the 
world  of  angels,  praise." 


INDEX 


(The  figures  refer  to  pages  of  this  volume) 


Abstract  art,  abstraction,  6i,  90, 

139.  144,  251-258 
Academicism,    13,  21,   29,   39  seqq., 

54  seqq.,   71  seqq.,   85,    113  seq., 

123 
Academy,  Royal,  13,  343 
Accumulation  of  art,  211  seqq. 
Accuracy,  79,  81,  354 
Adaptation  of  ornament,  234 
^schylus,  143 

.iEsthesis,  116  seqq.,  134,  180 
^stheticism,  119,  154,  163,  186 
Affectation,  179,  185 
Agesilaus,  39 

Alessandri,  Signor  Angelo,  295 
Alexander  the  Great,  39 
Alexander,  Miss  Francesca,  245 
Alison,  15 
Alkibiades,  193 
Allen,  George,  32,  301 
Allston,  Washington,  A.R.A.,  15 
Alto-relievo,  277 
Amateur,  345  seqq. 
Anatomy,  97,  108  seqq. 
Angelico,    Fra    Giosanni,    22,    165, 

323.  35° 
Animal  painting,  109 
Anschauung,  16 
Ansidei,    Madonna  dei,  of  Raphael, 

121 
Application  of  art,  211 
Apollo  Belvidere,  278 
Apollodorus,  318 
Arabesque,  141 

Archaeology,  97,  102  seqq.,  214 
Archetype,  71  seqq.,  126 


Architecture  discussed,  chap.  xiii. 
(see  also  Beauty,  Laws,  Life, 
Memory,  Obedience,  Power,  Res- 
toration, Structural,  Truth, 
Workman) 
examples — Ambrogio,  St.,  Milan, 
187  ;  Crystal  Palace,  29  ;  Fredi- 
ano,  S. ,  Lucca,  22 ;  Giotto's 
Campanile,  Florence,  93,  233  ; 
Mark's,  St.,  Venice,  143,  232; 
Medici  Chapel,  268,  278 ; 
Michele,  S. ,  Lucca,  233,  293  ; 
Parthenon,  277 ;  Pisa  Cathedral, 
232  seq.  ;  Verona,  palaces  and 
tombs,  233 ;  V6zelay  Church, 
187  (see  also Lomiardi,  PAeidias) 
styles  and  schools — Byzantine,  231 ; 
Egyptian,  231,  271  ;  French, 
198  ;  Flamboyant,  194,  230, 
237,  292,  351  ;  Gothic,  28,  74, 
194  seqq.,  230  seqq.,  244,  265, 
271,  292,  351  ;  domestic,  225  ; 
Greek,  230  seqq.,  269;  Italian 
marble-casing,  219,  237  ;  Lom- 
bard, 231  ;  Modern,  29,  225  ; 
Perpendicular,  194,  230;  Roman, 
231  ;  Romanesque,  22,  230  seqq. , 
265,  351  ;  Venetian,  28,  225 
(see  also  Lintel,  Orders) 
decoration,  271,  276  seqq.  (see  also 
Alto-relievo,  Bas-relief,  Decora- 
tive Art,  Inlaying,  Mosaic, 
Ornament,  Proportion,  Roof, 
Sculpture) 

Aristotle,  14,  53,  54,  96,  116  seqq. 

Art,  as  an  "activity,"  37,  42,  95,  98 


368 


A  rt-  Teaching  of  Ruskin 


Art,  its  aim,  object,  purpose,  or  end, 
50-58,    61  seq.,   87,    HI,    128, 

131.  174 

for  art's  sake,  172  seq. 

and  craft,  228,  241  (and  see  Manu- 
facture) 

definitions,  16,  37,  49,  95,  97, 
208,  242,  253,  265 

didactic,  173  seqq.,  205,  214, 
282 

its  evolution,  186  seqq.,  219  seqq., 
222  seqq.,  260,  316 

and  Fine  Art,  41,  226  seqq.,  254, 
268 

False  or  Sham,  and  Real  or  Vital, 
l/^seqq.,  88,  92,  135,  142,  156, 
164,  174,  198,  202,  206,  212, 
225-229,  247 

Formative,  49,  139 

Great  and  High,  38  seqq.,  159; 
Great,  67,  87,  97,  134,  145,  152, 
165  seqq.,  183,  188,  196  seq., 
242 

as  Language,  37,  42,  95 

Local,  197  seqq. 

nascent  and  decadent,  187  seqq. 

its  nature,  chap.  ii. 

as  play,  doll-play,  58,  91,  140 

Ruskin's  varying  views,  20  seqq., 
86,  115,  135  seqq.,  155,  231, 
304,  324,  351 

its  sources  and  conditions,  202 

its  use,  value,  or  work,  36,  149, 
153,  161,  206  seqq.,  214  seqq., 
218  seqq. ,  247  (see  also  Abstract, 
Academicism,  yEstheticism, 

Animal  painting,  Archceology, 
Architecture,  Artist,  Beauty, 
Chiaroscuro,  Colour,  Composi- 
tion, Criticism,  Decoration,  De- 
sign, Drawing,  Eclecticism,  Exe- 
cution, Generalisation,  Genius, 
Geology,  Historical,  Idealism, 
Imagination,  Imitation,  Indi- 
vidualisation ,  Landscape,  Laws, 
Line,  Machinery,  Manufacture, 
Mimetic,  Morality,  Nature, 
Painting,  Philosophy,  Photo- 
graphy, Political  Economy, 
Relation,  Representation, 

Schools,      Science,      Sculpture, 


Teaching,  Theology,  Truth, 
Unity,   Workman) 

Artist,  character  and  requirements, 
I01-U2,  133  seqq.,  157,  163  seqq., 
168  seqq.,  174,  181  seqq.,  195, 
202,  235,  241,  315,  319  seqq., 
331  seqq.,  339,  357 

Artless  peasantry,  210 

Ascetic,  154,  191 

Association  theory,  76,  114 

Associative  imagination,  136    . 

Baccio  Bandini's  engravings  (other- 

wiseattributed  to  Maso  Finiguerra), 

294 
Backgrounds   of   religious    painters, 

157 
Balance,  a  law  of  composition,  256  ; 

in  sculpture,  279 
Barry,  James,  R.A.,  12 
Bartolommeo,  Fra,  22 
Bas-relief,  269  seqq. 
Beauty  in  architecture,  228 

mania,  180 

its  nature,  chap,  vii.,  and  27, 
41-44.  SS'  96.  98.  108  seq., 
131,  150,  x(i<)seq.,  194,  361  (and 
see  Truth) 

and  use,  219  seqq. 
Bellini,  Giovanni,  195,  349,  350,  351, 

363 
Bewick,  Thomas,  296,  351 
Bible  imagery,  157 
Bird  (painter,  of  Bristol ;  see  Ruskin's 

L.A.P.  §  103),  15 
Blake,  William,  144,  306,  351 
Body  colour,  338 
Boldness,  338  . 
Bosanquet,  Bernard,  16 
Botticelli,  Sandro,  8,   99,   loi,  294, 

317.  352 
Breadth,  305,  354 
Brush,  306  seqq.,  353 
Burgess,  Arthur,  296 
Burke,  Edmund,  14 
Bume-Jones,  Edward,  32,  90,  144 
Burns,  Robert,  164 
Byron,  Lord,  85,  164,  201 

Campanile  of  Giotto,  93,  233 
Caricature,  127  seqq.,  141 


Index 


369 


Carlo  Dolce,  92 

Carlyle,    Thomas,    15,    i8,    19,   22, 

149,  160 
Carpaccio,  Vittore,  8,  352 
Character,  jj 
Chesneau,  Ernest,  103 
Chiaroscuro,  aerial,  312  seqq. 

in  engraving,  294  seqq. ,  306  seqq. 

formal,  78,  312  seqq.,  333 

general  discussion,  chap,  xviii. ,  335 

tonal,  312  seqq. 

violent,  264,  275,  304 
Chiaroscurist  school,  134,  318  seqq. 
Chords  of  colour,  332  seq. 
Cima  di  Conegliano,  98 
Circle,  291 
Claude  Lorrain,  92 
Clay  sculpture,  243,  270,  281 
Cleverness,  197,  226 
Coins,  274,  351 
Coleridge,   S.    T.,    15,    44,    76,    114 

seqq. 
CoUeone,  statue  of  Bartolommeo,  by 

Verrocchio,  278 
Colour,  architectural,  237  seq. 

decorative,  248 

design  in,  259 

in  Grand  Style,  39 

principles  and  laws,  chap.  xix. ,  and 
78,  170,  234,  266,  313,  319 
(and  see  Painting) 

in  sculpture,  279  seqq. 
Communis  senstis,  116 
Como,  Ruskin's  early  drawing,  59 
Completion,  93,  361  (see  Finish) 
Composition,  136,  254  seqq.  (and  see 

Design) 
Concept  and  percept,  86,  139 
Conception,  simple,  138 
Consistency,  265 

Contemplative  imagination,  138  seqq. 
Continuity,  264 
Contour,  271,  284 
Contrast,  264,  296,  332 
Conventional   design,   246  seq.    (and 

see  Nature,  Truth) 
Copying,  347 
Cormon,  102 

Correggio,  172,  174,  305,  350 
Cox,  David,  189 
Crafts,  194,  197,  210,  219,  241  seqq. 


Criticism  and  critics,   80  seqq.,  100, 
210,   300,    315  seqq.,   344,   356 
seqq. 
canons  of,  152,  216,  360  seqq. 
Cruickshank,  George,  8,  351 
Curvature,  120,  264,  290  seqq. 
Custom   and  beauty,    115  (and  see 
Association) 

Dante,  53,  54,  loi,  142,  143 

Decadence,  periods,  195  seqq. 

Deception  in  art,  56,  60,  219 

Decision,  336  seq. 

Decoration,  decorative  art,  61,  144, 
178,  200,  233,  268,  and  chap.  xiv. 
(see  also  Abstract  Art,  Adaptation, 
Arabesque,  Architecture,  Colour, 
Composition,  Conventional,  Crafts, 
Design,  Elgin,  Figure,  Foliate, 
Fresco,  Gilding,  Glass-painting, 
Grotesque,  Illuminating,  Marble, 
Mosaic,  Nature,  Naturalism, 
Niello,  Orders,  Ornament,  Pat- 
terns, Sculpture,  Symbolism) 

Delicacy,  170,  362 

Denner,  Balthazar,  81 

Dependence  (law  of  composition), 
256 

Design,  chap,  xv.,  and  48,  233,  357 
(see  Composition) 

Detail,  88  seqq.,  327 

Didactic  art,  173  seqq.,  205,  214, 
282 

Difference  (law  of  composition),  256 

Discipline,  instinct  of,  58  (see  Beauty, 
Moderation) 

Discovery  of  art  (Political  Economy), 
208  seqq.,  342  seq. 

Distinctness,  361 

Distribution  (PoUtical  Economy),  214 
seqq. 

Dor6,  Gustave,  164 

Drapery,  40 

Drawing  and  colouring,  325  seqq. 
general    principles,     chap,     xviii., 

and  284  seqq. 
water-colour,  338 

Du  Maurier,  George,  297 

Duran,  Carolus,  310 

Diirer,  Albert,  43,  50,  99,  iii,  142, 
145,  148,  293.  304,  313,  350 


2  B 


370 


Art-Teachmg  of  Ruskin 


Dutch  painting,  see  Schools 

Eastlake,  Sir  Charles,  28 
Eclecticism,  184,  199 
Education  in  art,  109,  "zioseqq,,  262, 
340  seqq. 

general,  helped  by  art,  208,  214 

of  Ruskin,  6  seqq. 
Effect  and  Fact,  60  seqq. 
Elgin  Marbles,  268,  280 
Emerson,  R.  W.,  18 
Energy,  or  Life,   122,  291  (and  see 

Life) 
Engraving,  chap,  xvii.,  and  269 
Etching,  ID,  297  seqq. 
Ethics,  see  Morality 
Exaggeration,  139 
Execution,  42  seqq.,   234  seqq.,  282, 

335.  357 
Experiments  in  art,  183 
Expression,   in  art,   108  ;    in  Grand 

Style,  39  ;  in  photography,  48 

Fact  and  Effect,  60  seqq. 

Faith  and  art,   103,    162,   209  (and 

see  Religion) 
Fancy,  135  seqq. 
Fashion,  211 
Fear,    as  source  of   the    grotesque, 

141 
Feeling,  48 
Fichte,  J.  G.,  15 
Fielding,  Copley,  6 
Fiesole,  349 
Figure   study  for  landscapists,   etc., 

355 
Finish,  43,  91  seqq.  (see  Completion, 

Delicacy,  Detail,  Distinctness) 
Florence,  22,  214  (see  Schools) 
Foliate  relief,  277 

Form,   and   colour,    238,    280,    325 
seqq. 

organised,  254  seqq. ,  354 
Formal  chiaroscuro,    78,    312  seqq., 

333 

Francia,  350 

Frediano,  San,  Lucca,  22 

Fresco,  338 

Freshness  in  painting,  336 

Fuseli,  Henry,  R.A.,  12,  84 


Gainsborough,     Thomas,     R.A., 

350 
Generalisation,    generic    or    general 

truth,    chap.    iv. ,    82,    127,    189; 

generic  ideal,  126 
Genius,  137,  151  seq.,  183,  342,  360 
Genre  painting,  201  seq. 
Geology  and  art,   80,    98,    107  (see 

Science) 
Geometry   and    art,    105  seqq.    (see 

Perspective) 
George,  Ernest,  298 
George,  St.,  Guild,  51,  209 
G6r6me,  J.  L.,  102 
Ghirlandajo,  Domenico,  195,  349 
Gilding  on  sculpture,  280 
Giorgione  Barbarelli,   162,  195,  281, 

317.  323.  350.  352 

Giotto,  53,  93,  172,  182 

Glass  painting,  243,  246,  288 

Glyptic,  243,  268  seqq. 

Goethe,  145 

Gothic  revival,  23,  74  ;  Gothic  archi- 
tecture, etc.,  see  Architecture, 
Schools 

Government  aid  to  art,  208  seqq. 

Gradation,  120,  265,  303  seqq.,  313, 
330 

Grand  style,  12,  39  seqq.,  54,  72 
seqq.,  86 

Graphic  art,  242,  282 

Greenaway,  Miss  Kate,  50 

Grotesque,  140  seqq. 


Harding,  J.  D.,  6,  7,  311 

Harmony,  265,  354 

Hatching,  297,  307 

Hegel,  G.  W.   F.,  15-19,    114,    117. 

147 
Heredity,  181  seqq.  (see  Instinct) 
Historical  painting,  40,  102,  214 
Hobbima,  43,  92 
Hogarth,  William,  320 
Holbein,    Hans,    43,    50,    99,    145, 

350.  352 
Hunt,  Leigh,  72 '. 
Hunt,  William  H. ,  29,  352 
Hunt,  W.  Holman,  102,  103,  159 

Idea,  Platonic,  70,  113 


Index 


371 


Ideal,  generic,  126  seq.,  161 

superhuman,  134,  143 
Idealism,  ideals,  55,  66  seqq. ,  76,  90 
J^??-.  133.  190.  200,  315,  323 

in  sculpture,  282 
Idolatry,    instinct   of,    58,    144  seq., 

189 
Igdrasil  (magazine),  13,  64 
Ilaria  di  Caretto,  Quercia's  effigy,  22, 

121,  191,  278 
Illuminating,  miniature,  245 
Illusion,  60  seqq.  (and  see  Imitation) 
Illustration  of  books,  208 
Imagination,  chap,   viii.,  and  27,  45 

seqq.,  61  seq.,  85,   150,  167  seqq., 

257-268,  27s,  362 
Imitation,  chap.  iii. ,  and  42,  45,  114 

deceptive,  55  seqq. ,  247 
Incision,  271  seqq. 
Individualisation,  77,  83  seqq. 
Infinity  (in  curvature,  gradation,  etc.), 

44,  120,  129,  264,  290,  303,  330 
Inlaying,  276  (see  Mosaic) 
Inspiration,  146^^^^. ,  151,  176 
Instinct  in  art,  43,  58,  98,  147,  181, 

200 
Intellectual  art,  290,  297 
Interchange    (law    of    composition), 

264 
Interior- painting,  105,  318  seq. 
Invention  (in  composition),  48,  259  ; 

in  "  Grand  Style,"  39 
Italian  art,  see  Schools 

JACOBI,  F.  H.,  135 
Japanese  art,  122,  158,  186 
John  of  Pisa  (Giovanni  Pisano),  275 
John,  St.,  eagle,  144 

Kant,  Immanuel,  15,  16,  44,  114 
Keats,   John  ( '  *  Ode   on  a   Grecian 

Urn,"  not  "Sonnet,"  as  stated  in 

text),  113 

Landscape,  its  aims  and  principles, 
63.    106  seqq.,    139,    153,    181, 
193.  265,  311,  355 
English,  22,  172,  189,  201  seq. 
naturalistic,  29,  80 
and  perspective,  105 
symbolism,  144  (see  also  Nature) 


Laocoon  (statue),  121,  278 
Laws  of  architecture,  chap.  xiii. 

of  beauty,  chap.  vii. 

of  colour,  329  seqq. 

of  composition  or  design,  255  seqq. 

of  engraving    and    drawing,    285 
seqq. 

of  sculpture,   269  seqq.,  273,   282 
seq. 

of  structure,  354 
Leonardo  da  Vinci,  53  seq.,  93,  188, 

195.  304  ^e9->  313.  317  ^eq.,  349 

seq. 
Lewis,  J.  F.,  R.A. ,  351 
Life,  in  art  generally,  254,  260,  291 

in  architectural  sculpture,  228,  247, 
281  (and  see  Art,  False,  etc.) 
Light,   303   seqq.,    334    (see    Chiar- 
oscuro) 
Line,  287  seqq. 
Lintel,  231 

Lithography,  285,  351 
Lombardi  (Venetian  architects),  275 
Lucca,  21,  121,  191,  233,  278,  293 
Luini,  8,  195,  352 
Lupton,  Thomas,  300 

Macdonald,  Alexander,  295 
Machinery  and  art,  mechanical  art, 

45  ^^9!9-  >  248  seq. ,  278 
Mantegna,  Andrea,  99 
Manufactiu-e  and  art,   40  seqq,,  210 

seqq. 
Marble    sculptiu-e,    243,    269   seqq., 

281 
Marcantonio  (engraver),  313 
Mark's,  St.,  church  at  Venice,  143, 
232 

lion,  144 
Masses,   in   design,    272,    318,    334 

seqq. 
Masters  of  painting,  192  seqq.,  215, 

347  ^eqq. 
Matching  tone  and  colour,  310 
Material,  the  virtues  of  (see  Technical 

conditions) 
Mazzini,  Giuseppe,  20 
Medici,     194  ;      Venus     de',    270 ; 

chapel,  268,  278 
Meissonier,  J.  L.  E. ,  43,  102 
Memory,  ' '  Lamp ' '  of,  229 


372 


Art-  Teaching  of  Ruskin 


Metal  sculpture,  244,  269 ;  engrav- 
ing, chap.  xvii. 

Mezzotint,  285,  295,  300  stqq. 

Michelangelo  Buonarotti,  39,  99, 
107,  149,  172,  182-195,  240,  268, 
278,  281,  305,  309,  323,  348, 
350 

Michele,  San,  church  at  Lucca,  233, 

293 
Mill,  John  Stuart,  20,  76 
Millais,  Sir  J.  E.,  R.A.,  106 
Milton,  John,  71,  72,  85 
Mimetic  art,  53  seqq.,  190;  instinct, 

45.  57  mi- 
Modelling  in  clay,  243,  270,  281  ;  in 

drawing,  272,  310,  334  seqq. 
Moderation  as  Law  of  Beauty,  122, 

291,  331 
Monochrome,  310,  315 
Morality  and  art,  chap,  x.,  and  118, 

153.  183,  323,  357 
Morris,  William,  246 
Mosaic,  237,  243,  293,  337 
Mulready,  W. ,  R.A. ,  m 
Murray,  C.  Fairfax,  295 
Museum,  215  ;  S.  Kensington,  278 

National  art,  199  seqq. 
gallery,  174,  213 

Natural  grouping,  256 
Law,  "violations"  of,  77 

Naturalism,  23,  61,  178,  189,  246, 
250  seqq.,  261  (and  see  Land- 
scape') 

Nature  and  Art,  chap,  iv.,  and 
48,  57  seqq.,  65,  87,  113,  118, 
157.  199-203,  238,  255  seqq.,  272, 
287,  292,  304  seq.,  324,  328,  353 
seqq.  (and  see  Idealism,  Realism, 
Truth) 

Niello,  285,  293 

Northcote,  James,  R.A. ,  12 

Nude,  109  seqq.,  199,  354 

Obedience,  the  "Lamp"  of,  229 
Object  of  art,  260  (and  see  Subject) 
Oil-painting,  10,  335  seqq. 
Orders  of  architecture,  231  seqq. 
Originality,  183  seq.,  200 
Ornament,  200,  234  seqq. ,  250  seqq. , 
271  (see  Decoration) 


Outline,  287  seqq. ,  306,  333 
Over-production  of  art,  211  seqq. 
Oxford  Museum,  51 

Ruskin  at,    14,  17,  21,  25-27,  78, 

343 
Ruskin   Drawing  School,    8,    26, 
352 

Painting,    the    highest    art,     194 
242 

principles,  chap.  xix. ,  and  63,  313 
seqq. 

and  sculpture,  282  seqq. 

varieties,  243  seqq. 
Paper,  353 

Parasitical  sublimity,  129 
Parrhasius,  57 
Parthenon,  277 
Particular  truth,  87 
Patronage,  chap.  xii. ,  and  345,  360 
Patterns,  186,  260 
Paul,  St.,  39 
Pen,  306,  310  seqq. 
Pencil,  306,  311 

Penetrative  imagination,-  137  seq. 
Personification,  90,  189 
Perspective,  aerial,   106  ;  linear,  47, 

105  seqq. ;  in  sculpture,  279 
Perugino,  74,  195,  349,  350 
Pheidias,  172,  190,  191,  193,  348 
Philosophy,  Academic,  chap.  iv.  (see 
Archetype,  Idea,  Plato) 

of  art,  3-6,  11-20,  51,  76,  195 
Photography,  47,  62,   87,  132,  212, 

254,  258,  287,  329 
Picturesque,  127  seqq. 
Pisa,    22,    232    seq. ;    John   of,    see 

Giovanni  Pisano 
Plastic,  243,  268  seqq. 
Plato,  14,  209,  225  ;  Platonic  theory 

of  art,  6g  seqq.,  114,  12.6  seq. 
Play,  doll-play,  as  source  of  art,  58, 

140,  144 
Point  drawing,  306  seqq. 
Political  economy  of  art,  chap.  xii. 
Pope,  Alexander,  145 
Popularity,  176,  196,  282 
Portraiture,  77,  191,  201 
Poussin,  Caspar,  266 
Power,    artistic,    42    seqq.,    170;    in 

architecture,  228 


Index 


373 


Praise,  the  end  of  art,   37,  62,   64, 

128,  365 
Pre-Raphaelites,  23,  25,  29,  32,  50, 

SS,   87,  90,   102,    185,    320,   350 

(and  see  Hunt,  Millais,  Rossetti) 
Prices  of  pictures,  216  seqq. 
Principality,     law     of    composition, 

263 
Proportion  in  architecture,  233  seqq. 
Prout,  Samuel,  6,  28,  105,  189,  264, 

351 
Punch,  newspaper,  297 
Purism,  180 
Purity,  law  of  beauty,  122 

Quality  in  painting,  307,  336 
Quercia,   Jacopo  della,    his  effigy  of 

Ilaria  di  Caretio,   22,    121,    191, 

278 

Radiation  of  lines,  264,  354 
Raphael   Sanzio,    15,    39,    82,    104, 

121,  182,  188,  193,  19s,  309,  323, 

348,  350 
Realism,  23,  54,  66,  82,  88,  91,  132, 
190,  205,  317  seq. 

and  colour,  324  seqq. 

in  engraving,  294 

in  sculpture,  279 
Reason  and  imagination,  135,  162 
Refinement,  179,  286 
Reflected  light,  305 
Relation  in  art  {i.e.  power  of  telling 

a  story),  42,  45,  322  (see  Subject, 

Literary) 
Relativity  of  colour,  324,  327 
Relief  in  sculpture,  276  seqq. 
Religion  and  art,  chap.  ix. ,  323  seq. 

and  morality,  164 

Ruskin's  views  on,  chap,  ix.,  and 
21  seq.,  118-125 
Religious  art,  153  seqq. 
Rembrandt,  Rembrandtism,  8,  104, 

297  seq.,  314,  320,  350,  352 
Renaissance  art-philosophy,  71  seqq. 

popes,  194 

sculpture,  351  (and  see  Schools) 
Repetition  (law  of  composition),  233, 

264 
Repose,  i2i,  331,  362 


Representation,  45,  58  seqq. ,  259 
Reproduction  of  drawings,  etc.,  285 

seqq.  (see  Manufacture) 
Resemblance  in  art,  59  seqq. 
Restoration  of  ancient  buildings,  29, 
163,  249 

of  pictures,  215 
Rethel,  A.,  351 
Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  as  painter,  50, 

99,  170  seqq.,  185,  246,  323,  350  ; 

as  writer  on  art,  12,  22,  39  seqq., 

54  seqq.,   72,    76,    86,    113  seqq., 

317.  354 

Richter,  Ludwig,  91,  351  seq. 

Robbia  ware,  280 

Roberts,  David,  R.A.,  6 

Roman     school     of     painting,     see 
Schools;  architecture,  see  5. !». 

Romanesque,  see  Architecture 

Romanticism,  189,  192 

Roof,  230 

Rossetti,  D.  G. ,  24,  351 

Rubens,  Sir  P.  P. ,  350 

Rules  (as  opposed  to   Laws,  q.v.), 
166,  233  seq.,  254,  261  seqq. 

Ruskin,  John  (biographical).  Educa- 
tion and  teachers,  6-8  ;  inde- 
pendent study  of  art,  8-1 1,  310  ; 
of  literatiore,  n  seqq.  ,  personal 
character,  11,  154;  religious 
views,  21  seq.,  118-125,  154 
seqq. 
development  of  his  views  on  philo- 
sophy, 12-20;  on  ethics  and 
politics,  25,  161  ;  and  on  art, 
20  seqq.,  86,  115,  135  seqq., 
155.  231,  304.  324.  351  (and 
see  chaps,  x.  xi.  xii. ) 
character  of  his  teaching,  2  seq., 
19.  37.  "9.  149  seqq.,  163, 
186,  190,  301,  311,  340;  of  his 
criticism,  20,  80,  100 
practical  work  as  a  teacher  of  art 
at  the  Working  Men's  College, 
4.  341  f  344 ;  as  Professor  at 
Oxford,  25  seqq.,  78,  106,  230, 

293.  341.  344 
drawings  by,  7-10,  59,  341 
engravings  by   or   after   him,    10, 

299,  301,  304.  313 
writings,  27-33 


374 


Art-  Teachhig  of  Ruskin 


Ruskin,  John,   Aratra  Pentelici,    31 

seq.,    58  seqq.,    144   seq.,    161, 

173,     190,     223-244,    268-282, 

296,  365 
Architect,  letter  to  the  (in  "Arrows 

of  the  Chace"),  298 
Ariadne   Florentina,    31  seq.,   79, 

no,  134,  293  seqq.,  352  seq. 
Art  as  a  branch  of  education  (in 

"Arrows  of  the  Chace"),  343, 

360  • 
Art  of  England,  32,  264,  296,  352- 

363 
Cestus  of  Aglaia  (in  "  Old  Road  "), 

31,  29s  seqq.,  306,  352 
Crystal  Palace,  the  opening  of  the 

("Old  Road"),  29 
Eagle's  Nest,  16,  31  seqq. ,  96  seqq. , 

no  seq. 
Early  Essays,  7,  21 
Elements  of  Drawing,  4,  24,  29, 

32,  94,    263    seqq.,    306  seqq., 
328,  350,  356 

Elements  of  Perspective,    24,  30, 

105 
Joy  for  Ever,  and  its  price  in  the 

market  (see  Political  Economy 

of  Art) 
Laws  of  F&ole,  29-37,  63  seqq., 

79,  95,  106  seqq.,  128  seq.,  254, 

288,    304-313,    319,    325-337, 

347-354 

Lectures  on  Architecture  and 
Painting,  23,  28,  97,  157,  171, 
198,  223,  227-236,  251,  253, 
281 

Lectures  on  Art.  16,  32-37,  46, 
62,  98,  106-111,  147,  153,  161- 
168,  176  seq.,  181  seq.,  190, 
200-220,  230,  245,  250  seqq., 
288  seq.,  300,  308,  313  seqq., 
323,  331  seqq.,  343  seqq.,  354- 
358 

Love's  Meinie,  119 

Michelangelo  and  Tintoret,  the 
relations  of,  350,  362 

Modern  Painters,  7-20,  23-32,  37- 
45.  55-65.  76-82,  85-88,  92-96, 
101,  106-115,  128,  134  seqq., 
144  seq.,  152,  157,  171  seq., 
180,    227,   233,   254  seqq.,   264 


seqq.,   270  seqq.,  280  seq.,  290 
seq.,    303  seq.,    314,   323-330, 

337.  358.  361.  365 
Mornings  in  Florence,  32,  232 
Notes  on  the  Royal  Academy,  4, 

29,  32,  65,   173  seq.,  186,  308, 

319.  337.  355 

Notes  on  the  Turners  at  Marl- 
borough House,  30,  325 

Oxford  lectures,  generally,  4,  25, 
31,    64,    138,    147,    223,    304, 

352 
Oxford  lectures,  on  Reynolds,  un- 
published, 13 
Poems,  7 
Political  Economy  of  Art,   24-32, 

104,  207  seqq.,  342  seqq.,   358, 

360  seq. 
Pre-Raphaelitism,  pamphlet  ("  Old 

Road  "),  23,  28 
Pre-Raphaelitism,  three  colours  of 

("Old  Road"),  32,  278 
Prom,    Samuel    ("Old    Road"), 

28 
Queen  of  the  Air,  31,  190 
Reviews,    in    various    magazines, 

28 
Saint  Mark's  Rest,  32,  232,  340 
Seven  Lamps  of  Architecture,  10, 

23.   28-33,    93.    129,    222-243, 

250-265,  299 
Sir  Joshua    and    Holbein   ("Old 

Road"),  30 
Stones  of  Venice,   8,   23,  28,  46, 

87,    93,    105   seqq.,    143,    162, 

168,    192,    223-237,    250  seqq., 

278,  291  seq.,  322-332 
Study      of     Architecture     ( ' '  Old 

Road"),  31,  ^^,  174,  181 
Two  Paths,  30-37,  146,  170-179, 

190-200,    217,    229,    234  seqq., 

240-262,  330-360 
Val  d'Arno,  31  seq.,  lyj 
Verona,  etc.,  31 

Sacrifice,  the  "Lamp"  of,  228 
Schools,    Government,    24   (and  see 
Working  Men's  College,  Oxford) 
or  styles,  184  seqq.  (see  also  Archi 

lecture) 
Assyrian  and  Accadian,  83,  188 


Index 


375 


Schools,  Athenian,  i88,  191,  197 
Bolognese,  107,  318 
Burgundian,  199 
Celtic  and  Scandinavian,  186 
Chiaroscurist,  318  seqq. 
Christian,  ii,6  seqq. 
Colourist,  322  seqq, 
Corinthian,  199 
Doric,  199 
Dutch  and  Flemish,   6,  78,   134, 

188,  318 
Egyptian,  83,  188 
English,  200  seq. ,  352 
Etruscan,  192 
Florentine  or  Tuscan,    172,    182, 

188,  191,  197,  273,  317 
French,     103 ;     landscape,     189, 

264 
German,  188 
Gothic,  73,    141,    145,    158  seqq., 

191-199,  280,  316 
Greek,    73,    83,     iii,    156   seqq., 
172,  182  seqq.,   257,   270,   280, 
316 
ItaUan,  early,  182,  186,  188 
Japanese,  122,  158,  186 
Kentish  and  Northumbrian,  199 
Line,  315  seqq. 
Modern,  215  seqq.,  345 
Naturalistic,  88 
Norman,  187,  199 
Oriental    (Indian,    Chinese,    etc.), 

178,  186,  27s,  322 
Phcenician,  188 
Pseudo-classic,  199 
Renaissance,    83,    128,    157,    184, 

280 
Roman,  39,  141 
Romanesque,   22,  230  seqq.,  265, 

351 
Umbrian,  199 

Venetian,    39,  98,   172,  188,   191 
seqq.,  266,  317,  322  seq. 
Schopenhauer,  Arthur,  72,  in 
Science  and  art,   79  seq.,  chap,   vi., 
^ZS^eqq.,  214,  344,  355 
and  materialism,  18 
Ruskin's  interest  in,  17,  95 
its    use  and   value,    16,    36,    96, 
100 
Scientific  theory  of  beauty,  114 


Scott,  Sir  Walter,  103,  140 
Sculptor,    requirements   for   success, 

243,  272,  281 
Sculpture,   general   principles,  chap, 
xvi.,    and    139,    194,    234-243, 
265,  284 

Classic,  270  seqq.,  351  (see  Apollo, 
Laocoon,  Venus) 

Gothic,    271   seqq.    (see    Colleone, ' 
Ilaria) 

Oriental,  275 
Seal-cutting,  285 
Selection,  65  seqq. 
Sense,     its     pleasures,     117     seqq. ; 

common  sense,  see  Communis 
Shade,   304  seqq.  ;    shading,   chaps. 

xvii.  and  xviii. 
Shadow,  284  (see  Chiaroscuro) 
Shakespeare,  William,  102,  143,  145, 

147,  201 
Sincerity,  98,  171,  177,  361 
Sketching,  92,  139,  144,  311 

blocks,  353 
Sociology  of  art,  chap,  xi.,  and  249, 

347.  357 

SpeciaUsation,  specific  truth,  76 

Spenser,  Edmund,  142 

Standards  of  art,  349  seqq. 

Statuary,  277  seqq. 

Stippling,  307  seqq. 

Structural  art,  282 

Study  of  art,  310  seqq.,  340  seqq. 

Style,  337  seqq. ,  340  seqq.  ;  the  copy- 
right of,  218  ;  conditions  of,  224, 
231 

Subject,  artistic,  180,  202,  260,  356, 
361 ;  in  sculpture,  282 
literary,  42,  180,  322 

Subjectivity  of  colour,  324 

Sublimity,  44,  129,  130 

Suffusion  of  light,  304 

Surface  in  sculpture,  265,  271  seqq., 

304 
Symbolism,  143  seqq.,  189 
Symmetry,  121,  233,  262 

Tadema,  Laurence  Alma,  R.A., 

102 
Talent,  150  seqq.,  182,  195  seq.  (see 

Artist,  Genius) 
Taste,  116,  213 


Z7^ 


Art-Teaching  of  Ruskin 


Teaching  of  art,  209,  298,  340  seqq., 

364 
Technical  ability,  42,  197 

conditions,    242   seqq.,    285,    296, 

313.  337 
method,  356 
Tenniel,  John,  297 
Textiles,  243,  247 
Texture,  289^^^^^. 
Theology   and    art,    123    seqq.    (see 

Religion) 
Theoria,  16,  117-125,  134,  180 
Tintoret,    22,   24,   43,    83,  94,   133, 
172,  188,  194  seq.,  240,  323,  348 
seqq. 
Titian,  93,  98,   174,   185,    188,   194 
seq.,  206,  229,  240,  323,  342,  350 
seq. 
Tone,  57,  265  seq.,  284.   305,  333 

seqq. 
Tradition  in  art,  183 
Transparency,  296,  307  seqq. 
Treatment,     180    (see    Composition, 

Design,  Imagination) 
Truth  in  art,  42,  48,  52  seqq.,   62, 
chap,    v.,    150,    185  seqq.,    189 
seqq.,  308,  315,  361 
in  architecture,  228 
and  Beauty,   113  seq.,   128,   131, 

170,  187,  194 
generic,  general,  72 
and  imagination,  134  seqq. 
most  important,   62  seqq.,  78,  89, 

92,  132 
particular,  87 
Turner,    J.    M.    W.,    R.A.,  6,    8, 
21-27,     42    seq.,     50,    80,    89, 
98,    105    seqq.,    133    seq.,    147, 
151,    171,    182,    189,   204,   265 
seq.,    304,   314,    337,   350  seq., 
362 
works,  Bolton  Abbey  and  Pass  of 
Faido,     83  ;      Coblentz,     263  ; 
Harbours     of    England,    300 ; 
Liber  Studiorum,   300  ;    Terni, 
60  ;  various,  350  seq. 
Typical  Beauty,  120  seqq. 


Ugliness,      126-128      (and     see 

Beauty) 
Undercutting,  274 
Unity,  107,  330  (see  Harmony) 

of  art,  241 

a  law  of  Beauty,  120 
Universal  in  particular,  83  seqq. ,  145 

seq.,  257 

Values,   47,    78,    307  seqq.,   333, 

354 
Van  Dyck,  Sir  Antony,  172,  350 
Van  Eyck,  Jan,  350 
Vases,  Greek,  284,  316,  319 
Velasquez,    Diego,    170,    172,    348, 

3SO,  352 
Venice,  22,  143,  233  seq.  (see  Schools, 

Venetian) 
Venus  de'    Medici,  270  ;   of  Melos, 

279 
Veronese,  Paolo,  104,  188,  314,  323, 

348  seqq. 
Verrocchio,  Andrea,  195,  349 
V6zelay,  187 

Vital  Art,  see  Art,  False,  etc.,  and 
Life 

Beauty,  125  seqq.  • 

Vulgarity,  179,  275 

Wages  of  art,  216  seqq. 

Ward,  W.,  295 

Wash  and  pen  method,  310  seqq. 

Water-colour,    10,    310,    335    seqq., 

354,  362 
Watts,  G.  F.,  R.A.,  90 
Wealth  in  art,  206  seqq. 
White  line  in  wood -engraving,  296 

seq. 
Wilson,  Richard,  R.A.,  189 
Wood  -  engraving,     269    seqq.,     295 

seqq. 
Working    Men's    College,    4,    341, 

344  e 

Workman,   the  life  of  the,  46  seq., 

235 
Zeuxis,  57 


Printed  by  R.  &  R.  Clark,  Edinburgh 


i/t 


■-St  7  *^-^ 


